A New Fellowship of the Ring
by Wizards-Pupil
Summary: Faramir has a dream of Boromir's death by the Uruk-Hai. In a desperate attempt to save him he take his place at the council of Elrond. A look at what LOTR would have been like if Faramir was a member of the fellowship instead of Boromir. Now Complete
1. Fateful Night

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR :(

_*There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother. ~Astrid Alauda*_

**July 3, 3018, Night**

_My Dearest Brother,_

_I cannot describe how grieved I am to be leaving you. I cannot hope for your forgiveness, I can only explain my reasons for this act._

_You recall the dream that has been plaguing me (indeed, the same dream has even haunted you). As of late, another – one that is far grimmer in its meaning – has accompanied the dream. In my dream, I see a forest littered with the bodies of Orcs and Goblins. In the midst of the field, I see you my dear brother, you, ridden with arrows, the horn of Gondor broken at your feet. _

_I know this ghastly dream to be a vision of your future, your future should you leave for Rivendell. This is why I have left you my beloved brother, so that you may live. I know that if I go to Rivendell in your stead that you shall not receive this horrid fate. I go for nothing less than the sake of your life, a life I hold far dearer than my own. Stay in Gondor Boromir, stay and guard the White City from all foes. My foresight tells me that we should not let our defences grow weak. Sauron has a plan for us far darker than any we can yet imagine._

_Forgive me my dearly loved brother,_

_Faramir_

_PS. Do not tell Father of my dream, he shall only call it folly and send you anyway. Instead, tell him that you had the dream. He will believe you my brother, he always does. Please do me this small task, for I cannot bear the thought of you meeting such a terrible fate._

I held the hastily written letter in my clenched fist as I quietly made my way into my brother's room. I was certain that he would not awaken from any noise I might make, however caution is the better part of valour. I hated to leave my brother with so meagre an explanation but the terror of my dream gave me little choice. I would not leave my brother to such a fate – not while I yet draw breath. I sighed, forcing myself to realize what I am doing. Perhaps I will not survive this, but my love for my brother is stronger than my life. Surely, Father will not take it calmly if Boromir does meet his fate, such as my dream.

I gazed down at my brother's face when I entered the room. He always looked so peaceful in repose – this was the only time he truly looked at ease. Taking a breath, I forced my eyes away from him and cautiously walked up to the table next to his bed and with my hands shaking; I tried gently placing the letter down. With one last gaze at my sleeping brother, I left the room.

I head out for Rivendell tonight.


	2. Questions Asked and Answered

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

**October 24 3018, Dusk**

I managed to escape Minas Tirith without being noticed. Only now that I near Rivendell do I begin to ponder my decision. Do not confuse me; I do not regret my choice, only what consequences my choice may lead to. My father will undoubtedly be furious at me. However, I do believe Boromir will follow my instructions – he knows my foresight to be unsettlingly accurate. Possibly too accurate for my own good, but I feel that acting on my instincts this moment is the only way to save my brother's life.

Rivendell's beautiful forest looms in front of me. After 113 long days, I have finally reached my destination.

{}o{}o{}

I have not much strength to spare for writing. The ride here was long and taxing. Upon arriving, I stabled my horse and was shown to my room by none other than Glorfindel himself. The lore master in me wanted to squeal like a female child. However, I managed to remain calm and composed. The room he has led me too is truly unbelievable. It's vast, nearly twice the size of my room in Gondor. It is also incredibly open, and the cool breeze welcomed me. It is made of a white wood, a form that I have never come across. The ceiling is high, and has ribbed cross vaults. The room has an oak desk for writing, complete with a stack of fresh parchment and a quill and ink. There is a chair, made of a light oak wood that matches the writing desk. I also have a rather large bed. It is also made of oak, and has four posts and a canopy, with a pale green gauzy material. I laid down my luggage, which just consisted of a change of clothes, my weapons, my notebook and pencil, and of course, food, and water, on the floor and lay down on the bed. It was as comfortable as it was large. And it was plenty large.

Sadly, I must stop writing; Lord Elrond is holding a council early tomorrow morning and has invited me to attend. He informed me that the answers I seek be given in the council. I know not what I will discover but I shall attend.

October 25, 3018, Dusk

The council wore on for the entire day. Though I am nearly exhausted, I shall attempt to write down all that transpired before the nights end so that I can be sure to recall all the numerous subjects and details of the council.

When I arrived at the council I was quite surprised by the range of beings in attendance, truly I believe we had at least one representative of all the free peoples of Middle Earth.

I arrived at the same time as several other people, including such notables as Glorfindel, Glóin, and of course Lord Elrond. There were several others at the counsel whom I was not acquainted with – I would soon become acquainted with them though. We were meeting in a clearing in the woods. The surrounding trees provided a nice bit of shade that covered the circle of seats. The center of our council contained a small wooden table with nothing on it – at least not at the moment. After everyone was seated, Lord Elrond arose and introduced what appeared to be but a small child. However, he did not bear the face of a child, but more like an adult.

"Here my friends, is the hobbit, Frodo son of Drogo." Lord Elrond scanned the crowd and then continued, "Few have ever come hither through greater peril or on an errand more. Urgent." He then showed Frodo and Gandalf to their seat and began to introduce everyone at the council: beside Glóin sat his son, a younger Dwarf named Gimli he had reddish brown hair, which was tied back into a dwarvish braid, a large beard that also was braided in dwarfish fashion. He wore a metal cap with intricate knotwork designs around the edges. His breastplate was made of the same metal, but was covered by his beard so that I could not see the front. He wore also great brown boots that looked hard enough to withstand the toughest mountain climb. Glorfindel, counsellor of Elrond's house sat next to him, in the silver clothing that all of Elrond's house seemed to wear; Erestor, chief counsellor sat next to him, his golden hair was loose, unbraided like the rest of his kin; Galdor, and Elf from the Grey Havens was beside him, his face was hard and he looked to have seen much of hardship. Legolas, from the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil, the king of the Mirkwood elves sat beside him. His golden hair was long, with two braids in the front. He wore the brown tunic of the Mirkwood elves, with intricate vines embroidered in the front. He had gray pants and light boots that looked to be made of leather. Bilbo Baggins, another hobbit, one who appeared to be remarkably old sat beside him. His curly hair was rather gray, and his head kept nodding as though he were trying not to fall asleep. The only one he did not introduce was a tall man with a rugged face, dark-haired and grey-eyed; he seemed to me to be both noble and wise. However, his clothing suggested he lead a rather rough life. His black tunic was heavily patched, and his black pants were rather worn. Lastly, he introduced me.

"Here, is Faramir, a man from Gondor. He arrived late last night, and seeks for counsel. I have bidden him to be present, for here his questions shall be answered." I bowed my head in respect.

The council went on for a few hours without really getting anything started. I feared that we would skirt around the real reason for the council until night when Glóin suddenly stood up and told of a strange messenger that had come to seek the assistance of the dwarves. The servant was of Mordor and wished to know of hobbits and a 'little trifle' ring – the whereabouts of which the dwarves gave him no answer. They stalled and told him to come back later. Thus, the dwarves decided to come to Rivendell to both warn Bilbo of his dark pursuers and gain the counsel of Lord Elrond.

"You have done well to come," Lord Elrond said to Glóin and Gimli. "You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purpose of the enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than to resist, with hope or without it. But you do not stand alone. You will learn that your trouble is but a part of the trouble of all the western world. The Ring! What shall we do with the Ring, the least of rings, the trifle that Sauron fancies? That is the doom we must now deem."

He then stood and addressed the entire council.

"That is the purpose for which you are called hither. Called, I say, though I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come and are here met, in this very nick of time, by chance, as it may seem. Yet it is not so. Believe rather that it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world."

He paused and looked at each of the council members. It felt as if the fate of the world would depend on what we were about to discuss. I was nearly overcome with curiosity of what the 'Ring' was, anxiety as to what would come of our meeting, and an odd sense of destiny. I knew this meeting would save, or destroy Middle Earth. When his eye at last fell upon me I felt my breath hitch, his intense eyes seemed to be burrowing into my very soul. I was more than a little relieved when he looked away.

"Now," Lord Elrond continued his speech. "Therefore, things shall be openly spoken that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand what is the peril, the tail of the Ring shall be told from the beginning to the present. And I will begin that tell, though others should end it."

Finally, the moment had come, finally I would know of the Ring.

Lord Elrond began the tale with the forging of the rings of power. He told us of how Sauron deceived everyone by creating another secret, all-powerful ring. He then traced its dark history throughout the Second age. He told of the Númenor, of Moria, and finally the last alliance of Men and Elves. Lord Elrond was a member of that army; he was there on that day, that day that changed Middle Earth. He watched as Isildur cut off Sauron's hand and took the Ring. He begged Isildur to destroy it, to rid the world of its evil. However, the Ring had Isildur under its power – he would suffer it no harm. The Ring eventually betrayed him, and so began the downfall of the Kings of Gondor. Sauron was not destroyed by the loss of his Rings, for his life force is directly tied to it. Sauron has begun to arise again. He has resumed the building of his army and resides once again in Mordor. However, he cannot yet take form. I had heard much of this tale, but never its entirety.

Lord Elrond then gave leave for others to take up the story. My love for my country drove me to speak. Alas, I could not control myself; I had to defend the greatness of my beautiful city. I know that Elrond had not intentionally meant to belittle Gondor, yet that is how the tale sounded to me.

"Believe not that all of the blood of the Númenor is spent. Nor is all its dignity forgotten. Gondor has long defended the west, and kept the evil of Minas Morgul at bay. Nay, all of Gondor's hope or dignity is not lost. Yet I do not claim that Gondor alone can defeat the enemy. However, I have not come hither to so great a counsel to ask for allies in war. I have come to ask for counsel and the meaning of a dream.

In my dream, I thought the eastern sky grew dark as there was a growing thunder, but in the west a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying.

_'Seek for the sword that was broken:_

_In Imladris it dwells;_

_There shall be counsels taken_

_Stronger than Morgul-spells._

_There shall be shown a token_

_For Isildur's bane shall waken,_

_And the Halfling forth shall stand.'_

Of these words, no sense could be made. I was sent to Rivendell to see what the council should be." I felt myself blush slightly as I spoke the last few words. I myself had not actually been sent, for the first time that day I found myself wondering what my brother had thought of my departure.

At this point the man I had seen earlier in the corner stood up, and I could see that he was indeed kingly.

"And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you." He said. He then cast his sword, which was in two pieces, upon the center table and turned to Lord Elrond. "Here is the Sword that was broken."

I was nearly faint with wonder. Here, before I, sat the very sword that Isildur cut Sauron's fingers!

"Who are you?" I murmured in quiet awe, my eyes never leaving the sword. Surprisingly, Lord Elrond answered me. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He is descended through many fathers, from Isildur, Elendil's son, of Minas Ithil. He is the chief of the Dunedain in the North, and few are now left of that folk."


	3. The Hope of Us All

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

"Isildur's heir? You're the King?" I asked in shock. I care not for what others think at that moment. I was truly astounded. I, Faramir, was in the presence of the true king of Gondor! Never would I have thought I should live to see the true King. I looked upon Aragorn again, and noted that he did indeed bear the air of nobility that all the race of Nuúmenor shared. I have this feeling that my father will not like Aragorn at all. My brother perhaps will honour him as I would, but never my father. Aragorn did not get a chance to respond to my questions though. He was interrupted by the Halfling, or Hobbit as they call themselves.

"Then it belongs to you." Frodo said eagerly. "And not to me at all!"

Aragorn looked at the little Halfling with something akin to dread. "It does not belong to either of us," he said in a solemn tone. "But it has been ordained that you should hold it for a while." Frodo looked on Aragorn with utter shock, as though he couldn't understand why Aragorn didn't demand the ring of him.

"Bring out the Ring Frodo!" Gandalf said with a voice that demanded no question. "The time has come. Hold it up and then Faramir will understand the remainder of his riddle."

The crowd became deathly quiet as Frodo stood and walked towards the table at the center of the gathering. He held it up for all to see.

"Behold Isildur's Bane!" Lord Elrond exclaimed as Frodo lifted the ring up. Indeed, the Ring was as Isildur wrote. The Ring was made of gold, and appeared heavy in the Halflings hand. Though it appeared as nothing more than an ordinary ring, it seemed to demand attention. Energy pulsed outward, allowing this Ring seemed alive.

I felt myself voicing my thoughts without having thought. "So this shall be Gondor's doom? This accursed Ring of Sauron's? Furthermore, how do we know that this is the one Ring?" I suddenly realized that my questions probably sounded quite rude and I hastened to correct myself. "Do not mistake me my Lords, I do not doubt your word that this is the Ring. I wish only to know of how it was discovered. For surely the Ring was lost after it left Isildur."

"That shall be told." Lord Elrond replied.

Suddenly the older Halfling piped up. "But not yet, I beg, Master! Already the sun is climbing to noon, and I feel the need of something to strengthen me."

Alas, I truly did not wish to break for lunch, not when I was so close to discovering the last of the answers I sought! I looked over at Elrond worriedly, but felt myself gladden at his look. He smiled kindly at the older Halfling, but shook his head. "I had not named you though I do so now. Come! Tell us your tale!"

The older Halfling, Bilbo, got up slowly and walked to the center of the center of the council. He looked over at Gandalf before he began. He started with an apology to all who had heard a different tale, asking that they forgive him for his lies. He then began to tell his tale. He had discovered the accursed Ring in a cave in the Misty Mountains. It had been in the possession of a strange creature named Gollum. He then proceeded to explain how he escaped from the vile creature's lair and thus became the bearer of the Ring. I do believe that Bilbo would have continued with his tale until the sun set if Lord Elrond had not stopped him. After Bilbo went back to his seat, Frodo came forward.

Frodo's tale was the most enlightening of the two tales. He had inherited the Ring from Bilbo and would have been unaware of its true origins but for Gandalf. Gandalf discovered its identity and sent Frodo out to Rivendell immediately. Frodo left the Shire, which is the home of the Hobbits, and set out for Bree, which is East of the Shire, where he would meet up with Gandalf.

Along the way, they had quite a few setbacks – by none other than the Ringwraiths. However, they made it to Bree – and Gandalf was nowhere to be found. This fact greatly intrigued me, where had Gandalf been I wondered, however I had not a chance to ask him for Frodo was intent on finishing his tale. The four hobbits met Aragorn in Bree and he led them to Rivendell. Having now finished his tale Frodo sat back down with obvious relief.

There was now but one piece of the puzzle missing. What had happened to Gandalf?

I believe most of the council shared my curiosity, for Gandalf was made to tell his tale. Moreover, what a despairing tale it was. However before we were told what happened to him Gandalf told us of how he knew this ring was indeed the one Ring of legend.

He had searched diligently through the scrolls in Gondor until he came at last upon one that Isildur wrote right after he received the ring. In the scroll, Isildur described the markings the ring used to have. He also noted that he believed that should one heat up the Ring the words would reappear. Gandalf tested the theory on the Ring, and the words appeared.

Then Gandalf did something quite unexpected. He quoted the last line of the ring verse aloud in the dark tongue of Mordor. As he spoke, his voice became dark and terrible. The sun was covered by a looming cloud and the very warmth of the air we breathed seemed to have been stolen away. I felt my heart despair as he spoke the dark language. Truly, it was a terrible feeling, as if all that was good was blocked by its mere utterance. I glanced at the Elves, and they were more than disgusted at the very sound of the black language. Their expressions did nothing to warm me. In fact, I did not think that Lord Elrond was going to take Gandalf's sudden actions kindly.

The feeling lasted but a moment though. For as soon as he finished speaking, the sun was uncovered and the air of despair faded. Gandalf uttered no apology for his use of so vile a language in Rivendell, indeed he was quite the opposite. He believed that the fact that the Ring bore this message alone should be proof enough. However, he also had the proof of Gollum – the miserable creature that Bilbo had found in the Misty Mountains. Gandalf had found the creature and questioned it thoroughly. (After his questioning, he left the creature in the care of Thranduil of Mirkwood where Gollum sub sequentially escaped. I am unsure as to whether or not we will loath this development at the present.)

Gandalf then told us of why he had not met up with Frodo. When Gandalf left the Shire, he went for Saruman's council. Upon arriving, he learned of the greatest treachery of our age. Saruman had betrayed us all to Sauron. Indeed, when he discovered that he could not bend Gandalf to his will, Saruman imprisoned him atop of the tower of Orthanc. Gandalf managed to escape the tower with the help of Gwaihir the Windlord, swiftest of the Eagles. He then made way to Bree as fast as he could, only to find he had missed them by a day. He then set out in search of Aragorn and the hobbits, only to barely miss them again. Finally, he arrived at Rivendell in time to assist Elrond with healing Frodo. Having come to the end of his tale, he laid forth the following question;

"Well the tale is now told, from first to last. Here we all are, and here is the Ring. However, we have not yet come any nearer to our purpose. What shall we do with it?"

Alas, I began to feel myself torn in two. I would gladly do away with so evil a thing – especially if it meant we might also be rid of Sauron! Yet my father ordered Boromir to bring the Ring back to Gondor. Whether I came in Boromir's stead or not, as my father's son, I must carry out his orders as well.

As I pondered what my personal decision would be, the rest of the council discussed various options. Could it be given to Tom Bombadil? No, he would not be a safe keeper. One asked why not. Gandalf mused that the Tom, being the eldest being in existence, would possibly not fall for the Ring's influence. I almost forgotten about my decision at the mention of Gandalf's description of this 'spry fellow'. I almost laughed when Gandalf said that Tom Bombadil has little or no concern with anything outside 'his' country, much like Hobbits, and therefore would not care much about the Ring. 'In fact, if he weren't careful, he might even misplace it!' Gandalf shrugged. So another asked, could it be hidden? No, there was not enough strength to defend it should it be found – nor enough strength to deny the temptation of using it. And no man can wield it, nay, only Sauron, the Lord of the Rings may wield it. Finally, Bilbo piped up.

"Very well, very well, Master Elrond! 'Say no more! It is plain enough to what you are pointing. Bilbo the silly Hobbit started this affair, and Bilbo had better finish it, or himself. I was very comfortable here, and getting on with my book. If you want to know, I am just writing an ending for it. I had thought of putting: and he lived happily ever afterwards to the end of his days. It is a good ending, and none the worse for having been used before. Now I shall have to alter that: it does not look like coming true; and anyway there will evidently have to be several more chapters, if I live to write them. It is a frightful nuisance. When ought I to start?"

Bilbo's offering was incredibly noble but not realistic as the journey would be perilous and taxing. Gandalf then reminded Bilbo that the Ring had left him, and had a new bearer, which was probably for the best. The council then became at a standstill, no one was talking, yet we all knew what we must do, yet no one wished to put the task upon themselves.

Then a quiet voice broke the oppressive silence.

"I will take the Ring," Frodo said standing and walking towards the table. He looked at the Ring with a touch of trepidation before looking up and addressing the entire council. "Though I do not know the way."

The council became deathly quiet as everyone stared at the hobbit. To me, the choice of Frodo seemed oddly, he looked destined for this task. As though Frodo alone could truly bear this burden and succeed. Perhaps Hobbits have some extraordinary resilience to the awed influence of the Ring. After all, Bilbo managed to carry it, although he had trouble parting with it, and Frodo managed to take it to Bree, then to Rivendell. I was clearly not the only one who felt that way as no one denied him the right; no one even argued another path that we might take. Lord Elrond agreed that Frodo should take the burden. He began to discuss who might accompany him.

And suddenly the council was interrupted.

Out of the trees bursts another hobbit and he was terribly upset. "But you won't send him off alone surely, Master?" He cried out as he ran up to Frodo. He was the same height as his 'master.' With golden curly hair and a troubled face, he looked as though he liked to garden, as his hands were rough and he smelled of growing things. He looked upon Frodo with a fierce loyalty and unhidden love. This hobbit clearly had no intention of leaving Frodo, no matter what we did. Therefore, I beheld Samwise Gamgee for the first time.

"No indeed," Lord Elrond replied to the upset hobbit. "You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

The Hobbit's face reddened, but his expression was nonetheless steadfast in his decision.


	4. Beginning of a Journey

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

October 30, 3018;

The Council has still not decided whether to send the Ring to Mordor with only Frodo, Sam (the name of the little hobbit who crashed the Council) and Gandalf, or whether more should be sent. And if we send more, how many? And to that end whom should the fellowship consist of? It seems that we must take deciding whom must take the Ring to Mordor will take far longer than deciding what to do with the Ring. Truly I do not see an end to our delegations occurring any time soon. I chose not to interfere because I feared that my words may delay it on further. I can only guess that the hobbits were haggard from the deciding.

November 15, 3018:

Valar be praised! The council has decided on two members to send. Aside from Frodo, Sam and Gandalf, we are sending, Legolas Greenleaf to represent the Elves, and Gimli son of Gloín to represent the Dwarves.

How truly sad it is that after so many weeks I am overjoyed at so small a decision! Never have I seen such an argumentative council! Everyone must be represented, and everyone does, and doesn't wish to go.

I am beginning to wish I had stayed at Gondor.

December 18, 3018:

My but the last month has been long! I have had nary a chance to write so weary have I been. Lord Elrond's council has worn on for 54 days! Every day we have met from dawn till dusk. Yet still the council dragged on – for none could reach an agreement on who should be sent.

I am not denying that this mission should have the utmost thought and care put into its planning; indeed the wrong fellowship can cause the demise of the whole plan. I am simply complaining about the unending politics that were involved! Each free people must have a representative, which I agree with, but should not the representative be the person who is best suited to such a mission? Not according to some at the council, no, they wish to send nobles who have never tasted battle – who have never used stealth. Indeed some I believe had never even left their home! If Boromir were here, he would've complained on how indecisive the council was.

However, despite all this, the council finally reached a verdict. The fellowship shall consist of nine members: Frodo Baggins, the Ring Bearer; Sam Gamgee, his faithful servant, Gandalf, as their guide; Legolas Greenleaf, to represent the Elves; Gimli son of Gloín, to represent the Dwarves; Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, cousins of Frodo (because I heard that they would complain to the Elves without end if they were not taken along); Aragorn, King of Gondor; and lastly, and perhaps most surprising, Me.

I Faramir, son of Denethor, have been chosen to accompany the fellowship to Mordor.

Truly I did not expect such a thing. I never would have believed I would be picked for so important a mission. I am honored beyond belief, and secretly thrilled. Though I have only known him for a short while, I greatly admire Aragorn. I would follow him on this mission as my Captain, indeed, I would follow him as my King – for indeed, he is my King.

That fact brings up another reason I am glad to be going. I should very much not like to tell my father of all I have learned at this council. I cannot decided which would be worst, Mordor or my Father. I would probably prefer Mordor; at least I stand a chance of making it out of the dark land alive. A thousand Orcs I would take instead of the terror that my father would prepare for me if I were not chosen. Yes indeed, I would take Mordor instead. This Sauron can give me all the Orcs to slay, as long as I don't have to face my father. Call me a coward, but if one does not know my father, then one does not understand my predicament. Surely I am glad.

December 25, 3018:

I stood with the rest of the Fellowship in front of the gates of Rivendell. The last week went by far too fast. Once the fellowship was picked it was decided that we could not afford any more time – the fellowship must leave at once. Why I wonder, where they not concerned for time during the 54 day council? Nonetheless the fellowship has been made ready in only seven days. And during these seven days several things have happened.

The scouts that Lord Elrond sent out in search of the Nine Ringwraiths returned and eight of the nine were accounted for. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Lord Elrond also decided which paths we would travel on. We are to cross Caradhras, then we go through the stinking Marshlands, lastly we shall reach Mordor. It has been decided that we should avoid Gondor and Rohan if at all possible. Gondor because of my father and Rohan because it is so near to Saruman.

But most thrillingly of all that has happened is this, the sword of Elendil was re-forged. I myself stood and witnessed the Elven smiths at work – I Faramir have seen the unimaginable happen! It was a beautifully made sword, and shone with the light of the moon. Aragorn renamed it Andúril, which means 'Flame of the West.' With Andúril in Aragorn's hand the Fellowship is now ready to depart, confident and brave.

Is it folly to believe that this group of merely nine can hope to accomplish so much?

{}-{}-{}

We have finally left Rivendell. We took very little with us as far as weapons go. Aragorn took Andúril and a bow, Gandalf his staff and Glamdring, the four hobbits took short swords, Gimli took two throwing axes and a giant axe, Legolas took a bow and two blades, and I am taking an elegant sword and a bow. We have also brought along rations of food and water, though only a little, we will have to forge and hunt some. However, I do not believe that will prove difficult, and will not waste precious time.

As we set out I notice the sun is already setting. I believe that we shall probably walk mostly at night on this long journey, and rest during the day as it is easier to hide ourselves under the cover of night. However I do not mind walking at night, indeed, I quite love it. There are few things on this Earth that can compare to the beauty of Varda's stars.


	5. Hobbit Wisdom

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

**December 26 3018: 22 miles**

We did walk the entire night. We traveled out of Rivendell at dusk and then climb out of the valley onto the moors. At the Ford of Bruinen, we turned south on very narrow paths among folded lands.

I have estimated that we walked 22 miles today. Alas but I am too tired to write – I shall attempt to keep a decent journey of our travels but am unsure of when I will have the chance.

**December 27 3018: 15 miles**

Today or perhaps I should tonight, we traveled through empty country, – it was very rough and barren. We then happened upon a stream. The stream was scarcely up to my waist, but it was over the hobbits head – so we, being Aragorn, Legolas and myself carried them. They were thrilled of this, for they made an adamant point of letting everyone know the fact that hobbits are deathly afraid of water, except Pippin. I was in charge of carrying Pippin, the youngest and extremely hyperactive hobbit. If he had squirmed or yelled another question when I stepped on that particular slippery rock, he and I would've fell over. Thankfully, Gandalf was annoyed enough by Pippin's myriad of questions about the White Towers, that he threatened to turn him into a frog if he didn't 'shut his unceasing mouth'. Once we crossed the stream, we continued on through the barren country, I truly began to think we should never leave it. Finally, the sun began to rise and we came upon a little hollow. We set up camp and I took the first shift.

As I sit here staring at this empty land I begin to ponder my circumstances. When I left Rivendell I did not foresee myself taking up on such a strange adventure, and yet, I feel that I am meant to be on this mission. I do not pretend to know what end this quest shall come to, but I do believe the council has made the right choice.

I can write no more, Legolas has come to relieve me.

**December 28 3018: 15 miles**

We climbed a crest to the top of a hill. At the top we could see the snow-capped peak of Caradhras lies due east. The weather takes a turn for the far worst and it becomes cold and windy.

Gandalf decided that it would be a good idea for us (Aragorn, Legolas, and myself) to teach the young hobbits how to fight-so that if the time arrived, they would be ready to defend themselves. I must admit, I believed this would be a very difficult task, the hobbits are small and do not seem like they would be good at a sword fight.

I was incorrect.

Though they are quite small, they are incredibly fast. They also work very well together, showing seamless cooperation. While I was fighting Merry, Pippin came upon me from behind and tackled me to the ground. I shall now be far more wary when I fight them.

On a side note, I am beginning to learn each of the members rather well. It's amazing what one can learn when one is on a quest with a few people. I first learned of this fact when I joined the guard of Minas Tirith. I knew each member of my regiment better than anyone else – I knew every detail of their personality. Fighting alongside someone can forge a deeper relationship and trust than one would think possible. But I digress. I honestly should not be writing, it is my watch.

**December 31 3018: 15 miles**

Happy Yule tide! I have the third watch and decided that now would be an excellent time to write.

I have discovered much of my companions already; I believe I shall dedicate an entry to each of my companions.

Tonight's chapter shall be Pippin's.

I do believe that Peregrin is the single most happy, energetic being I have ever crossed paths with. He never tires! Today while we traveled, I made the grave mistake of answering one of his questions about Lúthien, the Elven princess who fell in love with the mortal man, Beren. 'Why did she fell in love with him?' Pippin asked. I answered to the best of my knowledge: 'Because he took one look at her and immediately fell in love with her, for she was said to be fairest of all things beautiful found in Elves and Man'. I should have known it was a bad idea to answer the little hobbit when his cousins immediately gave me a sympathetic look. I had no idea what I unleashed. He asked me sixty-three different questions, and yes, I did keep count. The young hobbit has a simply unquenchable curiosity! Why did I not stop answering him one may ask? I could not say no to him. Not only is he inquisitive, he is also quite adorable. He kept giving me a pleading look any time I stalled in answering his questions. Therefore, I answered them, all sixty-three. It was tiresome, but I felt a satisfying achievement by accomplishing this.

Pippin is also a most agile hobbit. We made ready yesterday night to start off again when the young hobbit spotted a bee hive. Apparently hobbits like honey, because no sooner had he spotted it in a tall tree – and I do mean tall, it was nearly thrice as tall as Gandalf – then he had begun to climb said tree. He made it to the top while his cousins and companions merely looked on in horror. He grabbed his reward and made his way down the tree – though not before the bees took notice of his deed. We were chased by the fierce things for nearly a mile.

Yes, I do believe that Pippin is a most unpredictable hobbit.

**January 8, 3019:**

Today we reached Eregion at dawn. Upon our arrival, a flock of crebain flew over the camp. Gandalf believes these evil birds will report our location and mission to Saruman, an ill fate indeed. How troubling his betrayal of us is! It grows all the more terrible with each passing day! How can we hope to defeat Sauron when our own allies betray us?

{}-{}-{}-{}

I was interrupted from my despair by none other than Merry. Young Master Merry is an incredibly intellectual and caring hobbit; he has helped me see that it was folly to despair.

I was writing my dark thoughts down when I felt a small hand upon my shoulder. I looked up and was surprised to see Merry-the hobbits usually fall asleep quite quickly.

"What are you writing about Faramir?" Merry asked as he sat down beside me.

"My thoughts." I quietly murmured as I shut the book. "What are you doing up at such an hour, Master Merry? It is not your turn to watch for nearly another two hours."

The hobbit leaned back and sighed. "I can hardly sleep. Everything seems so strange, and now our path is being watched."

"Aye, it does seem that we can do nothing without the enemy knowing about it. Indeed I have even found myself questioning whom we can trust."

Merry looked at me with something akin to shock. "Whom we can trust? But don't you see Faramir, that's his plan. He wants us to start doubting each other. He wants us to hide our plans from each other and lie to each other. He knows that's our weakness, that we're such doubting creatures. He knows that alone we can accomplish nothing-but together, we can conquer him. Don't you see Faramir, we've no choice, but to trust each other, it's all we can do to defeat him."

I stared at the little hobbit in wonder. Indeed, he was quite right. Doubt had always been one of Sauron's chief weapons. How many times had I seen my men die because they doubted they could defeat the enemy? If I could not even believe that I could trust my allies then how could I expect others to trust me?

"Indeed Master Merry, I believe you are quite right."

He looked up at me and a slight smile graced his lips. "Faramir, could you tell me a story? I'm far to awake to go back to sleep, and a good story would be just the thing for such a beautiful night."

Therefore, I told him stories till both our watches were over.

**January 11, 3019:**

At last, we have reached the evil Mt. Caradhras. Its formidable structure loomed upon the Fellowship, but we knew we must remain undaunted. Tomorrow, we shall attempt to conquer it.


	6. Winter, Wargs, and Water Watchers

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

January 12, 3019:

Around Midnight Snow began to fall, at first softly, but it quite quickly became a blizzard. The white snow covered the land, and us, as a thick blanket covers a bed. Yet instead of offering us warmth, it brought us a cold such as I had never felt, one that utterly pierced us with its cold grip! So great was the blizzard that I could not see more than a foot in front of me, indeed it seemed that the entire world had become solid white. A fierce wind blew down from the mountain and worsened the storm – though I did not think it possible.

However, as bad as the blizzard was to me it was worse by tenfold to the hobbits. The snow was far over their heads so that they had to trudge behind Aragorn and me. Gandalf led the way, breaking through the snow with his staff and making a path for the rest of us to follow in. Legolas was in front of him scouting the way ahead because he could walk on top of the snow, a fact I was terribly jealous of. Aragorn and I tried to widen it for the hobbits; however, the wind was blowing so hard that the snow around us kept covering back up the path we had forged, and the hobbits with it.

I have never doubted Gandalf's wisdom before, but in that instant I began to doubt him. Could he not see that if we kept up this path we will all die? Even if the elf, who cannot feel the cold, makes it, there is no hope for the hobbits.

Finally, we stop trudging up. I leaned against the cliff to take what shelter I could against the blizzard. I did a quick head check (I have started doing head counts ever since we left Pippin behind after a lunch, he had fallen asleep) and discovered that I couldn't see any of the hobbits. Bill, the pony that Sam was leading, was right behind me, but the hobbits were no were to be seen. In a state of utter panic, I called to Aragorn for help and quickly started to dig around in the snow. After a moment, Aragorn and I found them, buried up to their heads in snow. We grasped the frozen hobbits with our numb hands and lifted them up out of the snow. I suffered a new shudder, caused not by the cold, but by the shivering sight of blue-skinned hobbits who could barely move.

Horrified I turned towards Gandalf. "Mithrandir, we must turn back. This path will surely kill the Halflings, if not all of us!" I pick up the hobbits and set them beside the cliff, at least there they stood a chance of living. I grabbed Frodo, sharing my body warmth with him and gave him my blanket, above all others he must be kept safe. I pulled Pippin in to my embrace also, he had grown severely pale, and his lips had a slightly blue tinge to them. As the youngest, he was also the smallest and had succumbed to the cold quicker. Aragorn gave him a blanket and helped him wrap it around himself while I held him.

Gandalf turns towards me and seemed to take notice of the hobbits difficulty for the first time. "Very well. Give them this," he said, pulling a flask out of his bag. "Just a mouthful each - for all of us. It is very precious. It is _miruvor_, the cordial of Imladris. Elrond gave it to me at our parting. Pass it round!"

I have never been very fond of spirits, as they weaken the mind and make men do despicable things. However, I would have gladly guzzled three bottles for the sweet warmth that the Miruvor offered. However, it was a very temporary warmth. In addition, what's worse, as the _miruvor's_ warmth faded the storm worsened. The wind and snow began to whip our faces all the more relenting. I almost wanted to dream of the warmth I experienced by the _miruvor's _magic at that moment, but the cold froze all but my mind. Trudging along we once again lost the hobbits to the snow. Once again, Aragorn and I rescue them from their icy tombs. I dread to repeat this once again.

Looking at Mithrandir I ask the about the only solution. "What do you say to fire? I fear our choice now is between fire and death, Gandalf. I doubt unfriendly eyes will see us through this storm." I grasped Merry and Pippin to my chest, attempting to share what little warmth I had with the nearly frozen hobbits. Aragorn did the same with Frodo and Sam, giving Gandalf a dark stare, urging him to agree with me.

To our relief, he agreed. "You may make a fire, if you can if there are any watchers that can endure this storm, then they can see us, fire or not."

Legolas took charge, leaping off the snow to the side of the mountain. He produced a tinderbox from his cloak and began to furiously work at a fire, which just showed one how truly cold it was – even the immune elf wished for warmth. However, the storm proved too much for his skill. Indeed, it proved too much for all of ours. As the fire kept dying, so did my hope. How would we survive if we couldn't build a fire? Finally, Gandalf intervened. He picked up a faggot and held it aloft, "_Naur an edraith ammen_!" he thrust his staff at the stick and it burst into blue-green flame.

"If there are any to see, then I at least am revealed to them I have written 'Gandalf is here' in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin."

At that moment as I basked in the warmth of that blessed fire I truly did not care who saw us. I would have taken on the entire of Mordor just to bask in the blessed warmth of that fire.

January 13, 3019:

Praise the Valar! Gandalf decided to turn back after he built the fire! We are now headed back down cruel Caradhras. A task which is oddly easier than attempting to climb it. It's almost as though the mountain was helping us down, the snow has lessened, and the wind has died down. Yet still, that precious fire still burns in my mind and no wind held its will against me.

{}-{}-{}-{}

Truly, I know not where to begin…

Logically, I shall begin this morning. Wargs attacked our camp in the early hours. We had decided to head into the mysterious Mines of Moria. A place Aragorn strongly recommended against going – a place I did not look forward to seeing. For if it was enough to scare Aragorn it would have to be a truly vile place. We had no sooner started on our journey to its hidden door than we were attacked. There is truly no natural creature as disturbing as the Warg. They are massive, wretched, monsters that gain no greater joy than a bloodied battle. We managed to escape thanks to Gandalf's awe-inspiring magic. He managed to burst an entire tree into flames! I have begun to notice that he seemingly specializes in the use of fire; it is just a thought, but a thought that may bear looking into.

Gimli and Gandalf both led us to the secret door, the lost door of Moria. The door bore designs on the arch, which included: a hammer and an anvil; a crown and seven stars; two trees surmounted by crescent moons; and a single star. The inscription at the top of the arch read: "_Ennyn Durin aran Moria. Pedo mellon a mino,_" - "The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

It was a riddle, and one to which Gandalf did not know the answer.

I do not know how long we set outside that doorway. Gandalf tried every password he could think of in every language he could think of. All the Fellowship save Gandalf sat down and set up camp. The doorway was right beside a massive dark lake and we set up our camp beside it.

We had been sitting for what seemed a lifetime when suddenly Gandalf exclaimed, "I have it! Of course! Absurdly simple, like most riddles when you know the answer." He picked up his staff and stood in front of the door. "Mellon!" He said in a great, respective voice. Of course! Why had I not thought of it? Mellon, the Elvish word for friend! The Fellowship rose and we all started for the door.

However, at that moment several things happened. Something seized Frodo by his ankle, and he fell with a cry. The rest of the Fellowship swung round and saw the waters of the lake seething; it was as if a host of snakes were swimming up from the southern end.

Out of the water, a long sinuous tentacle had crawled; it was pale-green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had gotten a hold of Frodo's foot, and was dragging him into the water. Sam, who looked nothing short of a madman, was slashed at it with a knife. Aragorn and I let out a battle cry and charged at the creature in the lake, attacking it as we ran.

The limb let go of Frodo, and Sam pulled him away, crying out for help. Twenty other tentacles came rippling out. The dark water boiled, and there was rather a hideous stench.

"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" Gandalf shouted! With a final hack at the monster's flesh, Aragorn and I raced back for the door to the mines. We picked up Frodo and Sam as we retreated, carrying them with us into the dark of the caves. The writhing tentacles of the infuriated giant creature grabbed at the wall and pulled the entire doorway crashing down – Aragorn, Frodo, Sam, and I barely made it in.

Gandalf lit his staff and looked at us, his face long and grave. "Well, now we have no choice but to face the long dark of Moria."


	7. Through a Mine Darkly

What was that thing" Frodo asked out loud. I too was curious, never had I come across such a creature in all my studies or travels. Gandalf frowned as he stared at the fallen doorway, he appeared not to know what the creature was either. My fears were confirmed with his next words.

"I do not know, but the arms were all guided by one purpose. Something has crept, or was driven, out of the dark waters under the mountains. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places in the world." His voice was steady in the dark tunnel, echoing off the walls in an eerie manner.

"You mean it was after the Ring, Mithrandir?" I questioned. What a dreadful thought. If Gandalf was right about the 'older and fouler' creatures, then Valar knows what we may find. I for one am hoping that whatever that creature out side was, that it is the only foul thing we meet in these forsaken mines.

"I do believe it sensed its power." Gandalf stated, confirming my fears with a frown. "Come, enough dawdling. Gimli, you shall walk with me, together we shall lead the fellowship through Moria!"

And so we began our long dark journey through Moria. We climbed a wide stairway that was one of the only undamaged things in the mines. We counted two hundred steps before we reached the top. If we had not already been so weary it would have been ominous what we found at the top of them. As we were though, we hardly noticed or cared about the cold and bitter darkness that the arched passage led into.

"Let us sit and rest and have something to eat, here on the landing, since we can't find a dining room!" Gandalf said upon seeing that the passage led to a flat, large room with another tunnel leading to yet more stairs. (The mines seemed to be made entirely of the abominable things.) We all happily agreed, and in a few moments we were sitting down to a welcome meal. After a very brief rest we resumed our journey. Gandalf and Gimli led, followed by Frodo and Sam, after them Legolas, then Merry and Pippin, Aragorn and I were pulling up the rear. It was the order in which we had been traveling for the majority of our journey, and it seemed one we would keep throughout or visit in these dark mines.

As I trudge along these dreary halls I can't help but stare at my companions, mostly at Aragorn though. Aragorn, I could write a library on him and still not have covered all that he is. Indeed I do believe that he has the potential to be far greater than any king of old. He appears foul at first glance; however as a ranger of the guard of Gondor I know his foul looks to be a result of his outdoor lifestyle. If one can but look pass his rough exterior though, one can quickly see the king within.

When Aragorn was but two years old, his father was killed. Aragorn was afterwards raised by the great elf Lord, Elrond. Elrond revealed to "Estel" (what he was named as a child, oddly fitting that he should be named the elvish word for hope) his true name and ancestry when he came of age. Aragorn thereafter assumed his proper role as the sixteenth Chieftain of the Dunedain. He has since been awaiting the proper time to announce who he is and take his rightful place. He is also the one responsible for capturing the miserable creature Gollum. (Though he is not responsible for lousing the foul creature, that fault is all on the elves of Mirkwood.)

When I look at Aragorn I do indeed see the King of Gondor and Anor. He has become very dear to me in the little while I have known him. When I look at him I truly believe that there is 'hope' for our people.

And yet again I feel myself torn in two. Torn between my duty and heart and my loyalty to my father.

Aragorn is the true king of Gondor and Anor, and being the king he has the power and right to supplant my father. Denethor will not accept Aragorn, nor is Boromir likely to. When Aragorn comes to claim his throne who am I to support? I could never betray my family, nor could I ever betray Aragorn. To whom shall I give my allegiance? Alas, I am afraid that Aragorn will win my help in the end- I cannot remain idle when the true king has come, even though it may mean the loss of my families trust.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I have discovered that Hobbits and cliffs do not get along. Apparently every Hobbit has a natural fear of heights, making it nigh near impossible for them to jump even a small gap. So when we came across said gaps, Aragorn and I have to carry or toss them across. After the fourth gap I have found myself getting rather tired, how many gaps are there in this deserted mine? (There seem to be almost as many of them as there are staircases.) And why, pray tell, can Gandalf, or Legolas, not assist? Oh well, such is my part in this fellowship, Hobbit bearer and story teller.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I am beginning to feel that perhaps Gandalf's memory is not as grand as it was once.

We reached a wide dark arch that opened into three passages. Gandalf took one look around and declared he had no idea which way to take and was too tired to decide on which way we should take. So, here we sit, waiting for Gandalf to remember the path.

Though I am weary I truly dislike just sitting in these forsaken mines. I feel trapped, like the walls are closing in on me. I am even beginning to fear I shall never escape to see the sun again-and I have only been in this wretched place for a few hours! What must these horrid mines be doing to Legolas? He probably feels as though he is be buried under this rock. The hobbits are used to living in holes in the ground, but even they are beginning to show signs of stress.

However, on a more positive side, Sam is a marvelous cook. Once Gandalf stated that we were going to stay here and rest Sam got started on our meal. He took out several pots, and started to cook some herbs, various spices, a few potatoes and carrots, and a lot of water and made a wondrous soup. You truly can't seem to discourage that Hobbit. He is caring, quite, and fiercely loyal to Frodo. Indeed, he even risked Lord Elrond's wrath in keeping near Frodo during the Council. He gives a thousand small comforts to Frodo, a gift no one else in this fellowship could possibly offer. I am beginning to see the wisdom of Lord Elronds choice. Clearly he saw the comfort that Frodo takes from his fellow hobbits. Pippin is a constant source of joy to Frodo-and everyone else in this fellowship. Merry is Frodo's companion, the one he turns to when he needs someone to talk to. Sam is his constant helper, his most loyal friend. These simple friends do more than we could ever hope, indeed Lord Elrond was right when he said he would rather trust in friends than in soldiers.

{}-{}-{}-{}

Perhaps I spoke overly quick earlier. Pippin just dropped a stone down a well. Now, that ordinarily would not be troublesome. However, immediately after the act we began to hear a faint tap-tom tom-tap tap-tap. The stone Pippin dropped had awakened something in the deep of Moria. I do hope that Gandalf was wrong about there being 'fouler' things in the deep places of the world.


	8. Fouler Things

**January 15, 3019**

I am so filled with sorrow that I scarce can see, let alone write. Yet I must get my thoughts and memories written down while I can recall them. Perhaps writing them down on this paper will help me accept that these terrible events truly did happen, for in my heart I truly cannot accept that they did.

This morning we continued our long trek through the depths of Moria. We had scarcely started our day's journey before we happened upon a large square chamber. The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the eastern wall: it slanted upwards, and far above I could make out a small patch of blue sky. It was the first trace of sky that any of us had seen since we entered these accursed mines. The beauty of that small patch, no larger than fist, made us all take in a gasp of delight and surprise until we saw what else was in the square room. The light of the shaft landed directly upon a table in the center of the room and upon this table was a great slab of white stone.

It was a tomb.

The tomb bore an inscription that read "Balin Son of Fundin. Lord of Moria." Upon reading the fateful words Gimli cast a hood over his head and wept in despair. The rest of the fellowship began to plunder about in search of anything that could tell us of what had brought this fate onto Balin. The room was filled with small bodies, dwarves no doubt, and littered with arrows, axes, and various other weapons. After a few moments of searching Gandalf happened upon a ancient book-or so it appeared to be ancient. It certainly hadn't been properly cared for. The scholar in me cringed at the site of the neglected book. Its cover was soiled and its binding undone, the pages were spoilt and falling out, all but ripped from the poor book.

Gandalf opened the text and flipped a few of the fragile pages before settling on a particularly ruined page. He stared at it for a moment before he slowly began to read the entries; "We drove the orcs from the great gate and guard - I think; the next word is blurred and burned: probably room - we slew many in the bright - I think sun in the dale." His voice echoed in the dreary, dark, damp, room and the words themselves filled us with dread as we read about the dwarves last stand in these deserted and forsaken caves.

The last words I shall never forget, they shall haunt me in my darkest nightmares forever. "We cannot get out. The end comes, drums, drums, in the deep ... they are coming'' Immediately after he finished the despairing passage, we, the fellowship, decided that it was high past time we left these accursed mines. We did not realize that we should soon share the dwarves reality. Gandalf led the way back out of the room in to the 23rd Hall. This time Gimli was in the rear, to heart broken to care about the rest of the wonders the mines might hold.

No sooner had we turned to head back out the 23rd hall than we began to hear a Boom, Boom. There were drums playing in the deep. A cold chill ran down my back as the words from the passage echoed around my head, in the same beat as the drum that now beat out our doom. I would have stayed frozen there until the Orcs came, save for the fact that I saw Aragorn move beside me.

The both of us ran to the doors as the rest of the fellowship fell back into Balin's tomb room. We tried to shut the great doors in a vain attempt at keeping the Orcs at bay while the fellowship fled. Before we could shut the door though Gandalf sent a light down the hall.

It lit the dark passages and allowed us to see for a thankfully brief moment what was coming towards us. Thousands of Orcs and Goblins had flooded the hall. They were even climbing the walls as they headed towards us, all armed and in some sort of armor. Yet that was not the worst of what we saw.

The Orcs had a Cave Troll.

We slammed the door shut and positioned our selves- Aragorn and Myself-between the door and the Halflings. Legolas and Gandalf were behind us, and Gimli stood upon Balin's tomb, yelling out dwarvish curses. The enemy came upon the door and began to hammer it, hard. I steeled my nerves as the door began to shake and forced my mind to focus. I withdrew my bow and readied an arrow upon it. The door began to splinter; Legolas and I drew back our bows and shot several arrows through its cracks. We heard several screeches on the other side, and then the door was knocked down.

I threw my bow back over my back and drew out my sword. Thousands of Orcs and Goblins poured into the room, all with their weapons drawn and sneers on their terrible faces.

I do believe that all of Moria was after us in that instant. Never had I seen so many orcs. I swung my sword unceasingly, yet they never seemed to thin out. We all fought furiously, and after a few moment the Orcs retreated. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Gimli had been fighting off the Cave Troll while the hobbits and I fought the rest of the Orcs. We turned to flee the small chamber, however, before we could leave Frodo was stabbed with a spear from the Cave Troll.

We had no time to lament the loss of our brave young ringbearer, nor to ponder what the fellowship must now do. Nay, with nary a thought I grabbed the dying Halfling and fled the room with the fellowship. His limp body was shockingly light, I no longer noticed his weight, if there was any, as I had noticed it during all those leaps over the bottomless caverns that littered Moria. My heart wanted to break at the feel of his small body in my arms, but I pushed the emotions away. We would, I would, save my emotions for a later town, now we needed to flee.

Once we escaped the small chamber Gandalf told us to go on without him, that he would catch up with us.

Aragorn nodded his agreement after a moment, though he looked as though he wished to argue against splitting up. He led us down the halls towards the bridge of Khazad-dum. We were running when all of a sudden I heard a small voice: "Put me down, I'm all right, I can walk!"

Frodo was very much alive.

My heart stopped beating at the sight, and then it took off at twice it's regular pace. I set the small hobbit down and tried not to let out an exclamation as he stood on shaky feet and began to head down the tunnel. We had no time to celebrate or question this grand development though. Gandalf rejoined us and we made a final run for the bridge.

And it appeared. The Balrog, demon of the ancient world.

Never have I been so frightened, nor have I ever seen so terrible a creature. It was taller than the Haradrims oliphants, more dark than the deepest cave, and covered with an evil fire. It's presence seemed to steal the air from the room, along with any hope we had had for escape. Surely nothing could escape from so evil and huge a foe.

Gandalf sent the Halflings, Legolas, and Gimli across the bridge. However Aragorn and I would not leave Gandalf-we could tell what he intended to do. He was going to fight the creature while the rest of us fled the mine, he intended to sacrifice himself for everyone else.

"Go!" He bellowed, seeing us still standing on the bridge. He stepped towards us and raced his staff threateningly. "Go, I tell you! It is your duty to protect and lead the Ringbearer, go!" We took a step back, shock filling us as we realized we would not be able to deter him from his plans. We joined the others at the end of the bridge, but we did not flee as we should have, we were all frozen in our spots as the terrible Balrog rose up and stood at the other end of the bridge.

Gandalf turned around and faced the terrible creature. "You cannot pass," he yelled, and dead silence fell over the hall, not even the shrieking of the orcs and goblins could be heard anymore. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.'" Gandalf bellowed, his kind, wise voice becoming stern and hard, full of ancient and awe inspiring power. He raised his staff and was enveloped in a vibrant blue light. The Balrog raised his sword of burning flames and struck at Gandalf, but as soon as his sword struck it was shattered.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf yelled again at the same time he hit his staff against the bridge. Where his staff hit the bridge broke and the Balrog fell with it. Gandalf turned around and leaned heavily on his staff. As he stood I looked on him in wonder. Never had I been so awestruck at his powers, never had I been so sure that he was indeed an apprentice of the valar. I stepped forward, intending to tell him of my awe, but I never got the chance.

For in that heart beat what had been my world was destroyed.

A fire string appeared from the great pit the Balrog had fallen into and it grabbed hold of Gandalf's ankles and pulled him towards the pit. The Balrog had him hooked with a whip of fire. Gandalf grabbed at the edge of the bridge with his fingers-Aragorn and I ran to pull him back up.

"Fly you fools!" Gandalf cried and then let go of the cliff he fell off the cliff with a final gasp, his body falling into the pit with the Balrog.

He was gone.


	9. Alone and Blind

_A/N; Here is the next installment...  
_

The next moments went by in a blur. I neither thought nor felt as I followed Aragorn out of the Dimrill Gate. Once we reached the outside of Moria the hobbits collapsed, and I too began to feel my grief over whelm me. I took a breath and quickly compressed the growing emotions. I could not allow myself to be overwhelmed by my despairing emotions just yet. We were still in danger.

"I fear we can stay here no longer," said Aragon. Looking at the mountains, raising high his sword he cried: "Farewell, Gandalf! Did I not warn you: If you pass through Moira, beware!"

Aragorn then turned his back on Moria and led us down from the evil mountain.

Much of the path I can not recall, I know only that it was dark and I was weary by the time we reached the mythical woods of Lothlorien.

Ordinarily, I would have been overjoyed at such an occasion. Long had I desired to explore the lands of the lady Galadriel. But I found no joy in my heart as I walked into the beautiful forest. It was quite late when we reached the golden woods, and we were greatly surprised by what greeted us.

We had sat down in the woods to partake of a meager meal before we continued on our way. After we finished we continued through the forest. We came upon a most beautiful tree and Legolas volunteered to climb up it to see if he could better behold the path we must take. He had started to climb it when a noble elf named Haldir informed us that we were un-allowed to pass as long as Gimli was with us.

This rather caught me off guard. How could the elves' be so prejudiced?! Gimli was an incredibly loyal and completely trustworthy! Despite the wonder I felt at meeting Haldir, I was incredibly close to hitting the elf. However I took a breath and collected my thoughts.

"Dwarf he may be, but I have found none more faithful on any of my many quests. He is also a member of this fellowship, handpicked by the Lord Elrond to accompany us on this most sacred mission."

The elves turned aside and spoke quietly to each other.

"Very good." Haldir said, "We will do this, though it is against our liking. If Aragorn and Legolas will guard him, and answer for him, he shall pass; but he must go blindfolded through Lothlorien." I found this solution hardly any better than his prior one, but I was not given the chance to voice my opinions. Haldir informed us that we were to stay up in the trees to remain safe and that he would lead us through Lothlorien in the morning.

That night as I stared up at the beauty of Varda's stars I found my thoughts dwelling on Gandalf.

Gandalf, one who had been as a father to me. My own father had never had the time for me, nor had he ever desired to find time for me. Mithrandir was the complete opposite. He always made time to visit me whenever he found himself in the realm of Gondor. He was the only one whom seemed to encourage the scholar in me. He comforted me when my mother passed, and when I came to the conclusion that I was unwanted by my father. He taught me the magic of words, the sweet melody the written word can become.

And he was now no more.

I found my mind drifting to our first meeting. I was but a boy of four. Oddly I can rember every detail of that meeting, even though I was so very young. Gandalf was holding council with my father. I had escaped from my nanny and ran into my fathers council chamber. Gandalf was sitting next to my father-he looked mysterious and grand in my little eyes. He looked over at me and his eyes sparkled. My father rose from his chair in fury and ordered me to leave the room at once. Gandalf steady him and beckoned me closer. I timidly walked up to him-I remember he smelled of pipe smoke, parchment, and a fresh sea breeze. He picked me up and perched me on his lap, his robes were soft and worn. He leaned down and asked me my name, and his long beard tickled my cheek. I smiled and whispered my name.

"Faramir? My that's a fine name. I bet you like stories, don't you Faramir?" His voice was deep and sounded as old and wise as the earth. I nodded my head furiously in reply to his question, I had always loved a good story, and I could sense this strange man knew plenty.

"Well then, after I'm through talking with your father I shall have to tell you one young master Faramir." He then gave me a wink and set me back on the ground. I gave this strange wonderful man a grand smile and then ran from the room. An hour later Gandalf appeared in my room and told me a glorious story about Huan the Hound-to this day it remains my favorite tale.

I rolled over onto my side and felt my tears start to fall. Gandalf, my dearest advisor was forever gone. And I had no time to mourn him. We had to continue on this accursed mission-one my heart was beginning to dread. I felt the whispers of the nameless evil stirring in my heart-the ring was trying to get to me, and I feared what I might do should it succeed.

**January 16, 3019 **  
We awoke early the next day, and Gimli was informed that he would have to be blindfolded. Needless to say he was not pleased. He stated that he would sooner go back than tramp through Lothlorien blindfolded. However Haldir informed him that he could not go back. I was beginning to fear that there would be a fight when Aragorn stepped forward.

"Come" he said, " If I am still to lead this company, you must do as I bid. It is hard upon the Dwarf to be thus singled out. We will all be blindfolded, even Legolas. That will be best, though it will make the journey slow and dull."

At this Legolas became angered, nonetheless the rest of the fellowship agreed upon these conditions. And we went forth, blindfolded as a fellowship.


	10. Temptation

**January 17 3019**

At noon Haldir received word from Galadriel, he was to remove all of our blindfoldes, even Gimli's. We were then informed that the Lady Galadriel wished to see us.

This honestly petrified me.

I was going to see Galadriel, Galadriel lady of the golden woods and most powerful elf of this age.

We came at last upon a high clearing and saw before us a fountain shimmering. It was lit by silver lights that hung from the boughs of trees, and shone in a basin of silver, from which a stream spilled. Upon the south side of the clearing stood the mightiest tree I had ever beheld. Its bark shone as grey silk, and up it towered until its first branches opened their huge limbs under shadowy clouds of leaves. Beside this tree was a broad white ladder, and at its top sat three elves sat. Upon our arrival they sprang up and came forth to greet us. We climbed the ladder and beheld Celeborn and Galadriel. Vey tall they were and they were both grave and beautiful. They were both clad wholly in white: and the hair of the lady was of a deep gold, the hair of the Lord was of silver, both were long and bright. Neither had any sign of age on them so that you could not tell whether they were old or young-unless you peered into their deep eyes. Their eyes seemed to me to be pools of wisdom and memory.

We approached the elves and the lady said naught, but Lord Celeborn greeted us each by name.

"Here are eight, but nine there were. Tell me, where is Gandalf the grey?"

At this question the Fellowship remained quite, Aragorn looked up to answer.

"Alas! Gandalf the grey fell into shadow. He remained in Moria and did not escape." At his words all the elves in the hall cried out in grief and I felt my heart join in their despairing cries.

Then Aragorn told the full tale of our travels and what had transpired. I felt my heart break once again at the sorrow that overwhelmed me.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. Those that followed him knew no his mind and cannot report his full purpose. But however it may be with the guide, the followers are blameless." Lady Galadriel's musical voice washed over me and I felt a little lighter.

"I it was who first summoned the White Council. And if my designs had not gone amiss, it would have been governed by Gandalf the Grey, and then mayhap things would have gone otherwise. But even now there is hope left. I will not give you counsel, saying do this, or do that. For not in doing or contriving, nor in choosing between this course and another, can I avail; but only in knowing what was and is, and in part also what shall be. But this I will say to you: your Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true.' And with that word she held each of uswith her eyes, and in silence looked searchingly at each of us in turn. None save Legolas and Aragorn could long endure her glance. Sam quickly blushed and hung his head. When she looked at me I was shocked to here her voice, _in my head_. She spoke to me of Gondor, and my father. She asked me what I would do if I could return to Gondor with honor. If upon my return I was beheld as greater than my brother and was beloved by father.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek at the thought. I knew she was testing me and I was greatly ashamed to admit that if I knew my father would love me I might abandon this quest.

At length the Lady Galadriel released us from her eyes, and she smiled. `Do not let your hearts be troubled,' she said. 'Tonight you shall sleep in peace.' Then I realized how truly weary, I was. `Go now!' said Celeborn. `You are worn with sorrow and much toil. Even if your Quest did not concern us closely, you should have refuge in this City, until you were healed and refreshed. Now you shall rest, and we will not speak of your further road for a while.'

That night we slept on the ground beneath the trees-and I must admit that I found no peace. I could hear the hobbits gentle snores as they enjoyed a much needed rest. Gimli lay by them with his great axe beside him, a look of peace on his face. Legolas had wandered off to speak with Haldir and I sat alone and awake.

Despite my great weariness I could not sleep. I felt tears fall unhindered from my grey eyes as I beheld the beauty of Lothlorien. So much had happened to me on this quest. I had found friends truer than any, I had found the answers to my questions, I had found my king. Yet, I was troubled. Earlier after I had reflected on what Galadriel had tempted me with. I was so ashamed at how easily she had read in me what I had tried so greatly to hide. She had found my greatest weakness, my father. All I have ever wanted is to be loved by my father. Yet his love has always been denied me and given in abundance to my dear brother.

I felt so unworthy of this fellowship. I doubt anyone else had such thoughts as I did. I truly did not deserve to travel with such great men.

"Faramir, you should take some rest. These borders are well-protected." I looked up from my seat and beheld Aragorn. His raven hair seemed to glow in the ethereal light that shone from the woods of Lothlorien. And he appeared to me to be the very reincarnation of the kings of old

"I fear I shall find no rest here, my Lord." I lowered my head and looked at the ground. I was unworthy to be in this mans presences let alone speak to him. I heard Aragorn lower himself beside me. He raised his arm and laid it on my shoulder. It is odd how his hands are always warm, their very touch can sooth.

"Faramir, what is it that troubles you?"

I spoke so quietly that I could barely hear my own words. **"** I heard her voice in my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me "Even now there is hope left." But I cannot seem to see it. It is long since we had any hope. My father is a noble man, but he is also hard. Our people lose faith in him daily. He looks to my brother to make things right and I know he will do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored, but She also told me that.." My voice faltered and I felt more tears fall from my eyes.

I gasped when I suddenly felt Aragorn grasp me in an embrace.

"Faramir, we will see the glory of Gondor restored! I will not let its glory fade, not while I yet draw breathe. I would see its glory returned with you by my side."

His words made me shake so unworthy did I feel.

"Faramir, Faramir, tell me what burdens you so!" I heard Aragorn's worried voice wash over me as he grasped me tighter. I felt myself weep all the harder as he held my head to his shoulder. After a moment I managed to compose myself. I slowly pulled back and looked at the ground.

"I fear I would leave the fellowship for my fathers love. I fear I would fall to her temptation. I am bereft of all honor and should be beaten for such treachery!"

Faramir," Aragorn spoke as he gently lifted my chin. "I would not dwell on the ladies words, she knows your heart, and she would not have let you pass should she think you a danger. Faramir, in all my life I have never met one as noble and loyal as you. You have become the brother I always wished for but was denied." I looked in shock as I saw tears fall down his noble face. "Faramir, you are far more honorable than I. You are apart of this mission because of the love you bear for your brother. You took his place even though it may mean your own death."

"But what if I fail? What if I fall to the ring?"

"Then you will be human my brother. I do not fear that you shall have such a fate though, for the ring has less pull on you than any mortal man I have ever beheld! Do not fear Faramir, in this hour I truly believe all we hope for shall be accomplished!" As Aragorn spoke his eyes became distant and he gazed toward the east with a look of longing.

"Have you ever seen it Aragorn? The White tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"

**"** I have seen the White City, long ago. My heart ever dwells with it and its people."

I leaned over and grasped his arm "One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guards shall take up the call: "The Lords of Gondor have returned!"

He looked at me with his grey eyes and nodded his head. We leaned back against the tree and a few minutes later I was asleep.


	11. Splish Splash

_A/N; Here is the next installment...  
_

**February 16, 3019**

It has been over a month since I have written, and I can scarcely believe so much time has passed. Over the pass month I, and the fellowship, have gained much need rest-both physical and mental.

After my conversation with Aragorn I felt much relieved. Never had I been accepted by another so quickly. When I joined the rangers of Gondor it was months before I made any friends-let alone ones I would so readily give my life for. After that night I felt my heart much refreshed, I began to believe that I was picked for this group for a reason, and I will not betray its trust.

I must leave; we are heading out from this beautiful land today.

{}-{}-{}-{}

We left the golden woods by the river Anduin, but ere we left the Lady of the woods graced us with her presences one last time. She gave to us each a gift, one specially picked for each individual. To me she gave an ancient leather bound book-straight from her library. It was a book as old as her and told of the elves coming to Middle Earth. She also gave to me a new sword, for my old one had become damaged in the halls of Moria. It was long and lean. Its hilt was black save for a silver stone set on the handle. I took both the gifts with great reverence. I nearly wept when I took the book, no greater treasure could she have given me. However she gave us each one last gift, an elven cloak hand woven by Galadriel herself.

A few moments later we were ready to sell the Anduin. Haldir gave to us three beautiful leaf shaped boats. We divided ourselves up like thus; Aragorn bore Frodo and Sam, Legolas bore Gimli, and I bore Merry and Pippin. We each carried various supplies that the White lady had given to us also-namely the wondrous gifts and elven way bread named Lembas.

As we set off down the river Anduin I thought back over the events that had taken place before we left Lothlorien. Galadriel and Celeborn both had come to see us off. Before we left Galadriel presented Aragorn with a shining green gem.

"This stone I gave to Celebrían my daughter, and she to hers; and now it comes to you as a token of hope. In this hour take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil!"

I starred at Aragorn in utter awe, for when he pinned the stone on himself he appeared far more kingly, and it seemed as if years of toil had fallen from him. No matter how much time I spend with Aragorn I never fail to be amazed by his grandeur. He is the king of Gondor-Isildurs heir! To think that I am honored enough to know him, let enough see him, is astonishing!

"Faramir?"

Young Master Pippins tug on my cloak with drew me from my daze.

"Yes Pippin?" He gave a nervous glance over to Merry and then resumed looking at me.

"Are you going to leave the Fellowship?" He asked in barely more than a whisper.

"Leave the fellowship? Whatever gave you the idea that I would wish to leave?"

Pippin bowed his head and whimpered. Merry looked at his cousin and spoke up. "We heard Lady Galadriel talking to you and Aragorn about Gondor. She said that she knew you wished to leave for Minas Tirith to bring it the Sword that was Broken. We saw the pain and longing on your face as you spoke. We know that you love your homeland more than anything, and we fear it shall win your allegiance from us."

"Don't go Faramir! You can't leave us!" Pippin cried out pitifully.

"My dear Hobbits, I have no intention of leaving this Fellowship. Though I do dearly love my homeland, and I do believe we are in desperate need of Aragorn and Anduril. I would never abandon the Fellowship for them. You are the ones that have my allegiance, Frodo, Sam, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and yourselves, I will not abandon this Fellowship for anything short of my death. Even then I may come back and haunt you." At my last line I gave Pippin an evil grin.

"Thanks Faramir, we wouldn't abandon you either." Pippin said as he gave me a hug. Which wasn't easy for him considering I was still rowing the boat.

"Gimli!" We heard a great cry from in front of us. I looked over and saw Gimli's and Legolas' boat tipping over. There was a great splash and the boat flipped over. Aragorn and I paddled over as quickly as we could.

"Legolas! Gimli!" Aragorn called. Suddenly Legolas rose from the water tugging Gimli up with him.

"Of all things!" Legolas gasped. Gimli just spluttered.

We some how managed to flip the boat back over.

"What happened?" Merry inquired.

"Gimli tipped the boat over!" Legolas laughed.

"Of course, just blame it on the dwarf, how very elf like of you!"

"Do you deny it Gimli? It was indeed you who tipped the boat. What ever were you leaning over the boat for?"

"I, I, I was looking at something." He quietly stammered as his cheeks grew red.

"Whatever was it?" Legolas inquired.

"I was admiring the boats craftsmanship-I didn't think I'd tip it over!" His cheeks were quite red know.

Aragorn and I quietly chuckled as we resumed our positions in front of and behind their boat.


	12. Dream Foretold

_A/N: enjoy!_

**February 18, 3019:**

For the past two days the fellowship has continued the journey down the river Anduin. However I do not now write to speak of these days.

I have had another dream.

Last night I dreamt of the vast valley of Helms Deep. The valley was littered with the bodies of men. I looked to the fort of Helms Deep and in the tower of Hornburg stood a flag bearing the white hand of Saurman.

The Orcs had conquered Rohan.

I then was sent across a dark void and awoke to find myself in the midst of Pelennor Fields. Around me stood an army so vast that I could not behold its ends. I looked upon the army and beheld that it was the army of Mordor, marked by the red eye. I was forced to watch as my city, my beautiful Minas Tirith was torn to the ground. I had to watch as the Orcs committed unspeakable acts to my people before they were heartlessly murdered.

The vision then faded to black, save for a single red light on the horizon. All was still for a moment-then it happened. I felt myself pulled into the dark land of Mordor. I was pulled to the very top of Mount Doom, to an arched doorway in its rock. I slowly walked through the door, unable to stop myself from treading its worn path. At last I entered the heart of Mount Doom. I could hardly see so great was its searing heat. After a moment my body adjusted enough to the heat for me to open my eyes. I saw a single Hobbit at the edge of a long bridge traveling over the fires of Mount Doom. I realized the Hobbit was Frodo; he alone was in the heart of Mount Doom. He raised his head and looked at me with his piercing blue eyes. Once his eyes connect with mine I begin to see flashes of the journey we will take to Mordor. I can not mention them here, so despairing they were. It shall suffice to say that I saw the death of each of our companions, my own included. At last I returned to Mount Doom and beheld Frodo again. He gave me a knowing look and my world faded to black.

Thus my dark dream ended.

This dream has greatly troubled me. Could it to be a foresight of what is to come? If that is the case, then is there no way to change so dark a fate? Alas! I fear that if we remain on our current course this dark path is unavoidable.

**February 23, 3019:**

Today has been quite active.

However I should write a quick summary of the past few days before I begin to tell of today. On the 19th Sam spotted a strange creature hiding in a log following our boat. He asked Aragorn about it and discovered that it was the creature Gollum. Apparently he has been following us since before we left Moria. On the 20th this strange creature tried to approach our camp but he was frightened away by none other than Frodo. On the 22nd I decided to tell Aragorn of my dream. He listened to me and asked no questions till I finished.

"Do you feel this is truly the future?"

"I do, Aragorn."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I do not doubt your foresight Faramir. I do not know what to do with such dark tidings. Should we continue on this path? Do you think that perhaps another route should be found?"

I shook my head. "No, in my dream it seemed as if there was a problem with the actual plan-not the path. I feel that unless something changes with our group we shall see this dark path come to pass." Aragorn gave me a long stare before nodding his acknowledgment.

"Very well Faramir, I too shall ponder what this dream could mean. And any other options that we might have."

And thus we arrive too today, the 23rd.

We approached Sarn Gevir at night we had decided we would set up camp on its shores. Upon approaching its western shores we were attacked by Orcs. We managed to escape to the western shore, and Legolas shot a Fell Beast ridden by a Nazgul.

Needless to say we are now quite wary of the western shore.

**February 25, 3019:**  
Today we passed the Argonath, two great statues on the Anduin. The two statues of the Argonath stand on pedestals in the water on either side of the Great River. Behind the statues, high cliffs form a narrow chasm that the river passes through before it widens to form the lake called Nen Hithoel. The Argonath are carved out of grey stone in the likenesses of Isildur and Anarion. The statues face north with their left arms raised, palm outward. In their right hands they hold axes and on their heads are helms and crowns. On the shores of Nen Hithoel we made our camp.

**February 26, 3019:**

There is too much to tell of this day.

We woke up this morning to discover that Frodo was missing. We looked around and could not find him any were.

We did not have long to worry over his absence though. Gimli, Legolas, and I had returned to camp in hopes of finding Frodo had returned when we were attacked. Creature far worse than mere Orcs had found our camp. We were attacked by the fighting Uruk-hai. We split up and ran through the Uruk-hai in search of our companions. An Uruk-hai us far different from an Orc; they are more intelligent, stronger, taller, and fierce than there Orc counterparts. I fiercely fought several before I could break through there lines. Having at last broke free though I ran in search of the Hobbits and Aragorn.

What I found will haunt me till I die.

I ran through the woods till I came upon a familiar clearing.

I was in the field I had foreseen my brother laying dead in. I stood numbly in the middle of said field until I heard a cry that broke my heart.

"Faramir!" I swiftly turned and beheld Pippin and Merry. They were staring past me in utter horror. I turned my head to see what they were starring at.

The Urak-hai had arrived.


	13. All good things

_A/N; He, he, sorry about the cliff hanger last time, here is the next chapter.  
_

"Run!" I yelled to Merry and Pippin. I turned back around and faced my attackers. There were at least twenty of the foul beasts. I raised my sword and with a final battle cry I charged into the swarm of Uruk-hai. I fought fiercely and managed to kill five before I heard a gut wrenching cry.

I turned around and nearly collapsed, the Uruk-hai were grabbing the Hobbits! Somehow a few of the monsters had snuck by me and grabbed the little ones! I charged after the huge Uruk-hai that held the hobbits and thrust my sword at him with all the strength I possessed. The beast fell down and the Hobbits broke free of his grasp. I quickly ushered them behind me as I continued to fend off the Uruk-hai.  
I had to get out of this clearing! I could not properly defend the Hobbits in so open an area. The ruins! When we first came upon this accursed shore earlier I had beheld strange ruins to the north of our camp sight. Surely I could defend the Hobbits there far better than I could in these open woods.

I began to back up, pushing the Hobbits behind me. Slowly I guided them towards the ruins.

We never managed to reach the ruins though. For as soon as I started to guide the Hobbits to the ruins another wave of Uruk-hai arrived, and with them was their leader.

I raised my sword and fought all the harder for the Hobbits. I managed to fell five more, bringing my total to eighteen, when I was shot.

Ugluk, as I later found out, had withdrawn a bow and shot me in my right shoulder. As I fell to the ground I found myself remembering my earlier vision. So this was how my brother had much such a dire end. He was trying to protect the Hobbits.

I grit my teeth and slowly rose. I would not leave the Hobbits unprotected. I would not let them be taken. I rose up and ran with what energy I had towards Ugluk.

Before I reached him though he managed to let loose one more arrow- this one pierced me in my right thigh. I nearly fell again so great was the pain, but the cries of Merry and Pippin kept me up. I charged at the foul creature and swung my great sword at it with what strength I could muster.

He managed to parry my blow with his own sword. A fierce battle comensed, and though I was injured I held my own.

However after a few moments my sight began to fail and I knew I could not last long. I managed to stab Ugluk in the leg before I fell to my knees. My last thought before I lost consciousness was of the Hobbits.

{}-{}-{}-{}

"Awake Mellon Nin." I slowly opened my eyes and looked upon the face of my king. My senses slowly became alert and I realized I was lying on the ground. The scent of Athelas lingered in the air and I felt Aragorn's hand under my head.

"How do you feel?" Aragorn deep voice washed over me.

I blinked once as the memory of what had just took place washed over me. "The Hobbits!" I managed to cry.

Aragorn looked upon me with weary eyes."The Uruk-hai have taken them. I came to this clearing just when you fell. The Uruk-hai were making off with the Merry and Pippin when I ran to assist you. I took down Ugluk and tended to your wounds. "

"So I have failed." This simple truth threatened to overwhelm me. I had failed in my most sacred mission. I had let the Hobbits be captured. I felt tears fall from my eyes as I thought of Pippin and Merry's face.

"Ney Faramir, it is I who has failed." Aragorn's tenor voice broke as he spoke.

"What do you mean my Lord?"

"Frodo has left... I could not keep the Fellowship together."

"Then it has all been for not." I heard Gimli say from somewhere behind me.

"No," I felt my self say, "No, it has not been for nothing." I raised my weary head and looked up at Aragorn. "We could not have gone with Frodo to the end, though we all would have faced the very fires of Mordor. Frodo was meant to face this doom alone. I understand what my dream meant now." I lifted my arm and grasped Aragorn's shoulder. "We shall find Merry and Pippin, and then continue on to Rohan. We cannot let my dream come to pass. We cannot leave them to suffer such a fate."

Aragorn looked at me for a moment. "No, all is not for loss. Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He lifted me up to a sitting position. "Mellon, do you have the strength to hunt the Uruk-hai down?"

I took a breath and did a quick bodily inventory. Surprisingly my shoulder and thigh did not hurt very much. "Well my king, you are truly a gifted healer. I see the wives tale was correct; the hands of the king are truly the hands of a healer. I shall most definitely be capable of hunting some Uruk-hai."

"Yes!" I heard Gimli growl behind me.

"Wait! What of Sam?" I asked, suddenly recalling the loyal Hobbit.

Aragorn gave me a small smile. "He has gone with Frodo my friend."

I felt myself smile for the first time in quite awhile. That was indeed good tidings indeed. I felt that Frodo would have need of his most loyal servant before the end.

"Lets hunt some Orc!"

_A/N: So ends the Fellowship of the Ring... Next up, The Two Towers!_


	14. Horselord

We grabbed only what we would need. Legolas, Aragorn and I took what arrows we could salvage from the battle. Aragorn and I carried our bows and swords, Gimli his axes, Legolas his bow and his blades. We left all else behind save for our cloaks and fresh drinking water.

At last Aragorn looked towards the woods that the Uruk-hai had disappeared through. "With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies. And woe to them, if we prove the swifter! We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds : Elves. Dwarves, and Men. Forth the Four Hunters!"

And with those words he dove into the woods like a deer, and our chase began.

**February 30th:**

So very much has happened since I last had a chance to write. For the last few days my companions and I have done not but run. But for all our efforts I thought our little companions doomed to die in Isengard. For no matter how hard we ran the Uruk-hai seemed to keep there lead.

Until today.

We were continuing our endless run when Legolas spotted riders in the distance heading our way. Aragorn decided to wait for them to pass us. For we could not hope to escape them in such open land.

The riders thunderd past us as though they did not notice us in their mist.

"What news from the North riders of Rohan?!" Aragorn called as they rode past us. Upon hearing his voice they wheeled around and came charging at us. Within seconds they had us surrounded and the tip of their spears pointing at our head

Without a word or cry, suddenly, the Riders halted. A thicket of spears were pointed towards the strangers; and some of the horsemen had bows in hand, and their arrows were already fitted to the string. Then one rode forward, a tall man, taller than all the rest; from his helm as a crest a white horsetail flowed. He advanced until the point of his spear was within a foot of Aragorn's breast. Aragorn did not stir.

'Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?' said the Rider.

"I am called Strider,' answered Aragorn. 'I came out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."

The Rider leaped from his horse. He drew his sword and stood face to face with Aragorn

"At first I thought that you yourselves were Orcs,' he said; 'but now I see that it is not so. Indeed you know little of Orcs, if you go hunting them in this fashion. They were swift and well-armed, and they were many. you would have changed from hunters to prey, if ever you had overtaken them. But there is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a Man that you give. And strange too is your raiment. Have you sprung out of the grass? How did you escape our sight? Are you elvish folk?"

'No,' said Aragorn. 'One only of us is an Elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlórien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."

The Rider looked at us with awe, but his eyes quickly hardened. 'Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!' he said. 'Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favour, then you also are net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe.' He turned a cold gaze upon Legolas, Gimli and Myself. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?" He demanded.

"I am Faramir, a man of Gondor." I replied.

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides," Gimli said.

"As for that," said the Rider, "The stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am named Éomer son of Éomund, and am called the Third Marshal of Riddermark."

"Then Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."

Éomer's glared at the dwarf "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow. "You would die before your stroke fell."

Éomer raised his sword, and I began to fear all would go ill, but Aragorn sprang between them, and raised his hand.

"Your pardon, Éomer!" he cried. "When you know more you will understand why you have angered my companions. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike?"

"I will,' said Éomer lowering his blade. 'But wanderers in the Riddermark would be wise to be less haughty in these days of doubt. First tell me your right name."

"First tell me whom you serve,' said Aragorn. "Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"

"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Théoden King son of Thengel," answered Éomer "We do not serve the Power of the Black Land far away, but neither are we yet at open war with him; and if you are fleeing from him, then you had best leave this land. There is trouble now on all our borders, and we are threatened; but we desire only to be free, and to live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil. We welcomed guests kindly in the better days, but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Come! Who are you? Whom do you serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs in our land?"

Aragorn replied that he did not serve any one and that all servants of Sauron we hunted. He then stated that we were looking for two friends.

He then threw back his cloak. His sword sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Anduril shone like the stars of Varda as he drew it out. "Elendil!' he cried. 'I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"

I looked at Aragorn in wonder, for again he had astounded me with his majesty. For a moment it seemed as if he was crowned with a living flame.

Éomer stepped back in awe and replied, "These are indeed strange days,' he muttered. 'Dreams and legends spring to life out of the grass."

He then asked why we were here. Aragorn replied that we were in great need of aid, for our friends had been carried off by Orc's. Eomer informed us that they had destroyed the orcs, but they had see not but Orcs.

Gimli informed them that they would have appeared as mere children to the Riders. But Eomer had not seen the Halflings. Eomer then order the eored to assemble on the path and that he would join them shortly. As soon as the eored withdrew Eomer continued speaking. He asked for the full tale of our journey. Aragorn informed him of our mission to go to Gondor's aid. Eomer told Aragorn that he knew Saruman was no longer trustworth and that Gandalf would not be welcome in the Riddermark. To which Aragron informed him of Gandalf's death. Eomer said that the news of Gandalf was ill tidings to him but would not sadden the king. Aragorn then informed him that we had been traveling on foot from Tol Brandir. Eomer looked at us with wonder and named Aragorn Wingfoot. He then said that he must return to Theoden and inform him of all that we had said. He implored Aragorn to join him.

"I will come when I may," said Aragorn.

"Come now!" said Éomer. "The Heir of Elendil would be a strength indeed to the Sons of Eorl in this evil tide. There is battle even now upon the Westemnet, and I fear that it may go ill for us."

"I thank you for your fair words,' said Aragorn, 'and my heart desires to come with you; but I cannot desert my friends while hope remains."

"Hope does not remain,' said Éomer. 'You will not find your friends on the North-borders."

Here I disagreed with the young horsemaster. As long as I had Aragorn I knew that hope would remain.

"Yet my friends are not behind.' Aragorn replied 'We found a clear token not far from the East Wall that one at least of them was still alive there. But between the wall and the downs we have found no other trace of them, and no trail has turned aside, this way or that, unless my skill has wholly left me."

We then bid the horse master good bye. He leant us three beautiful horses and we rode for the Orc mound. Aragorn took the lead, whilst I followed him, Gimli and Legolas followed behind.

_AN: The next chapter will be far more exciting!_


	15. Who Knows

_A/N; The next chapter will see us through Fangorn...  
_

We found the pyre later that afternoon. We rummaged through the pile and happened upon a miniature elven sheath. It was one of the Hobbits. The wail that Gimli let out surely could have been heard for several miles so loud and grief stricken it was. I fell to my knees and lost my vision to the many tears that over whelmed my weary eyes. I could hear Legolas forlornly whispering an elvish prayer behind me as I wept. Aragorn fell to his knees and wailed at the sky in defeat. We had failed our companions. They had been murdered and their remains burnt to ashes.

Then the strangest thing happened. Aragorn smiled.

"A Hobbit layed here." He tilted his head and stared at the ground. "And here another." I looked at the area he indicated. I could not make anything out, probably because I could hardly see through my tear soaked eyes.

Aragorn stood and slowly walked along the ground. He bent down and examined a bit of grass._ "_They crawled their hands were bound." He walked further along the grass. He came upon a mussed up patch and lifted up a severed rope from the ground. "Their bonds were cut. They ran over here. They were followed." He started to run along the ground searching it out for clues.

Legolas, Gimli, and I followed after Aragorn hopefully. Could the hobbits have survived the onslaught?

**"**The tracks lead away from the battle,_"_ His voice became filled with excitement as he ran. Then he ran up to the edge of the looming forest and stopped. "They leadinto Fangorn Forest."

"What madness could have lead them there?" Gimli exclaimed.

What madness indeed?

{}-{}-{}-{}

We set up our camp in front of the forest that night. We had decided that we would follow the Hobbits into Fangorn Forest in the morning, though it might spell our doom.

Gimli made us a small fire and we set around it uneasily with our backs to Fangorn. As I took in the warmth from the fire I realized that was the first time my companions and I had really rested since our fellowship broke. I had been longing to ask Aragorn what had transpired between him and Frodo that would convince Aragorn to let Frodo leave without us.

"Aragorn?"

"Yes Faramir?"

I took a breath before continuing, "Will you tell us what Frodo said before he left?"

Aragorn leant his head back and gazed at the stars. "Forgive me for having not told you before Mellon." He lowered his head and gazed at Me, Legolas and Gimli. "I found the ring bearer deep in the woods, at the ruins of the Seat of Seeing. I went to him instantly for I could clearly see that his heart was heavy and his soul was weary. 'What brings you here Master Frodo?' I inquired of him. 'None of us should travel alone, you least of all.' He then turned his head and looked upon me with such sorrow that I new something terrible had occurred.

'Yet travel alone I must. My path is now clear to me and I have seen what shall come to pass. None are safe from my burden. The Ring will take each of you. Indeed, it has already begun. None can resist its call, even the strongest shall fall before it.' He then looked at me with his piercing blue eyes. I knelt in front of him and peered into his grim face.

'I have sworn to protect you.' I told him quietly.

He looked me in the eyes and then lowered his eyes to his hand. He slowly opened his hand and the Ring was in it. 'Can you protect me from yourself?' He raised his eyes to look at mine. 'Would you destroy it?'

I looked upon the Ring and I knew why Isildur could not destroy it. The Ring is very much alive. I can not discuss what it said to me, or how it tempted me. It shall suffice to say that I very much wanted it for myself.

I took a breath and closed his hand. 'I would have followed you into the very fires of Mordor.' he then looked upon me and smiled.

'Take care of the others, they will not understand.'"

Aragorn turned his head and looked at me. "That is when the Uruk-hai came. Frodo barely managed to escape in time. As I looked for you and the other Hobbits I saw Frodo and Sam rowing to the eastern shore. So, as you can see I was correct when I told you it was I who failed."

"Failed?" I asked, "I do not see a failure. I doubt very much any of us could have let Frodo go so easily. Nor could any of us have so easily let the Ring escape our grasp. No, I do not see a failure. Frodo was destined to carry the Ring alone. Just as we were destined to come to this place in search of our friends. None can truly see what will occur, as it has not yet been set in stone. The power lies with us to change the future- indeed who know but that we have come to such a place as this at such a time as this. My heart tells me that we have a different part to play, one that shall be of a great aid to Frodo before the end. No my friend you did not fail Frodo."

"Who goes there?" Gimli cried out loud. I turned my head and surely enough I could make out a lone figure in the shadows of the forest.

_A/N: I decided to make it where Frodo had pretty much the same vision as Faramir. He knew if he didn't leave the Fellowship then each of them would fall to the Rings pull._


	16. Stranger in the Forest

"Hello Father, what may we do for you? Come and warm yourself by our fire if you are cold!" Aragron said as he stood up and walked towards the old man standing at the edge of the woods. But as soon as he started towards the old man he old man disappeared. We searched all around the camp but found no trace of him. Not only was he missing though, but he had also set the horses free.

**March 1, 3019:**

I was unable to sleep much last night. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the faces of young Merry and Pippin. I kept myself up thinking of all the horrid torments they might have endured from the Uruk-hai because I was not strong enough to protect them.

I can write no more now; Aragorn is ready to head into Fangorn.

{}-{}-{}-{}

Valar be praised! I have splendid news!!! But first I must explain how I found out such splendid news!

We entered the enchanted forest of Fangorn and began our search for the Hobbits. Fangorn is quite remarkable. It is ancient beyond measure; I believe it has been here since the beginning of Middle Earth. However, in its long life it has gathered a serious hate for all outside life. The instant we set forth in its dense woods we began to feel an oppressive air about the woods. The trees swayed and seemed to moan, indeed, it seemed as if they were talking to each other!

We had traveled a little ways when Legolas suddenly shouted out 'Look!'  
'Look at what?' said Gimli and I."  
'There in the trees.'  
'Where? I have not elf-eyes.' Gimli retorted.  
'Hush! Speak more softly! Look!' said Legolas pointing. 'Down in  
the wood, back in the Way that we have just come. It is he. Cannot you see him,  
passing from tree to tree?' Indeed, as I looked I could see an old man weaving in and out of the trees. He appeared to be an old beggar. He walked wearily leaning on a rough staff. His head was bowed and he did not look at us. If it had been any other day we probably would have said hello, but he reminded us of the old man we had seen lurking by our fire last night.  
"I see, I see now!' hissed Gimli. 'Look, Aragorn! Did I not warn you? There is the old man. All in dirty grey rags: that is why I could not see him at first."

We stood silently watching him for a moment. Then Gimli burst out suddenly 'Your bow, Legolas! Bend it! Get ready! It is Saruman. Do not let him speak, or put a spell upon us! Shoot first!'

Now, though I agreed with Gimli that we should be prepared to fight, I felt it wrong to shoot an old man. Especially when we did not know what his business was.

"Is that not a bit hasty? We do not know this man's intent, should we not wait to kill him till we know more of him?" I questioned.

"Faramir is right," said Aragorn quietly. "We may not shoot an old man so, at unawares and unchallenged, whatever fear or doubt be on us. Watch and wait!"  
Strangely the old man started to quicken his pace with surprising speed to the foot of the rock-wall. When he reached it he looked up at us. We stood motionless looking down at him. We could not see his face for he was hooded, and above the hood he wore a wide-brimmed hat, so that all his features were over-shadowed, except for the end of his long nose and his great grey beard. At last the old man broke the eerie silence. "Well met indeed, my friends," he said in a soft voice. "I wish to speak to you. Will you come down or shall I come up?" Without waiting for our answer he swiftly began to climb.  
"Now!" Cried Gimli. "Stop him, Legolas!"  
"Did I not say that I wished to speak to you?" said the old man. "Put away that bow, Master Elf!"  
The bow and arrow fell from Legolas' hands, and his arms hung loosly at his sides.  
"And you, Master Dwarf, pray take your hand from your axe-haft, till I am up! You will not need such arguments." Gimli started and then stood still, staring, while the old man sprang up the rough. All weariness seemed to have left him. As he stepped up on to the shelf his cloak moved slightly and there was a gleam, a quick glint of white, as if some garment shrouded by  
the dirty grey rags had been for an instant revealed The Gimli let out a loud hiss in the silence.  
"Well met, I say again!" said the old man, coming towards them.  
When he was a few feet away, he stopped, stooping over his staff, with his head  
thrust forward, peering at us from under his hood. We still could not see his face.

"And what may you be doing in these parts? An Elf, a Man, and a Dwarf. all clad in elvish fashion. No doubt there is a tale worth hearing behind it all. Such things are not often seen here."

Aragron peered at the old man for a moment and then responded; "You speak as one that knows Fangorn well, it that so?"

The old man nodded at Aragorn and said: "Not well, that would be the study of many lives. But I come here now and again."

"Might we know your name, and then hear what it is that you have to say to us?" Aragorn said. "The morning passes and we have an errand that will not wait."

"As for what I wished to say, I have said it: What may you be doing, and what tale can you tell of yourself? As for my name.." He broke of suddenly and began to laugh. I shuddered when I heard it and felt a cold thrill, neither of terror or dread, but more of the feeling of cold rain on one who has been sleeping.

"My name!" Continued the old man. "Have you not guessed it? You have heard it before, I think. Yes you have heard it before. But come now, what of your tell?"

We all remained silent, for we felt it was clear who this old man was. Saurman. We felt sure of it.

"There are some who would begin to doubt whether your errand is fit to tell" stated the old man. "Happily I know something of it. You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits. Yes, hobbit." At this I began to shudder. How could he have known that? Had he taken the young Hobbits? The old man continued on with his tale. "They passed this way, day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you? And now you would like to know where they were taken? Well, well, maybe I can give you some new about that. But why are we standing? Your errand, you see, is no longer as urgent as you thought. Let us sit down and be more at ease." With his final words he turned around and say down on a heap of fallen flat stones. Once he turned Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and myself withdrew our weapons. The old man took no notice of our withdrawn weapons but just sat down. Once he sat down his cloak parted and we could see he was clothed in white beneath the cloak.

"Saruman!" Gimli cried. "Speak! Tell us where you have hidden our friends!" With those words he sprang towards the old man with his axe raised. "What have you done with them? Speak or I will make a dint in you hat that even a wizards will find hard to deal with!"

Something most surprising happened next. The old man, quicker than Gimli, leaped to the top of the rock. He stood, seemingly having grown taller, as he was now towering above us. His old gray rags were tossed aside and his white garments shone. He lifted up his wood staff and Gimli's axe leapt from his grasp. The swords in Aragorn and my hands blazed as if on fire and we dropped them. Legolas gave a shout and shot an arrow into the air, it vanished in a flash of light.

Legolas then dropped to his knees and started crying out "Mithrandir! Mithrandir!"

Mithrandir? What devilry was this? Gandalf had fallen into darkness, surely he couldn't have survived!

"Well met, I say to you again, Legolas!" The old man cried.

I gazed at him for a moment. His hair, once gray was now white as snow. His eyes, under his bushy brow, were bright as the stars and, as deep as the ocean.

I felt at once Joy, awe, and fear. It was him, he was alive. "Mithrandir?" I murmured.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn cried. "Beyond all hope to see you return to us in our need! What veil was over my sight? Gandalf!"

"Gandalf." the old man said, as if he were recalling a long unused word. "Gandalf, Yes that was the name. I was Gandalf." He then hopped of the rock and put back on the grey robe. It seemed as if the sun had been put out when he covered his bright robes. "Yes, you may still call me Gandalf." He stated, and his old voice, the voice of my beloved Gandalf had returned. "Get up my good Gimli! No blame to you and no harm to me! Indeed, my friends none of you have any weapon that could have harmed me. Be merry we meet again! At the turn of the tide. A great storm is coming, but the tide has turned." He then laid his gnarled hand on top of Gimli's head.

"Gandalf." the dwarf stuttered, "But your all in white!"

"Yes." He replied with a chuckle. "I am white now. Indeed I am Saruman, one might also say. Saruman as he should have been. but come now, tell me of yourselves. I have passed through fire and deep water, since we parted. I have forgotten much that I thought I knew, and learned again much that I had forgotten. I can see many things far off. But many things that are close at hand I cannot see. Tell me of yourselves."

So we all sat down and we recounted our tell from the beginning. From the founding of the fellowship to its breaking and our hunt for Merry and Pippin.


	17. The Golden Hall

After we finished our tale Gandalf told us his in full. After he had fallen he hunted down the Balrog and smote him on lowest dungeon on the highest peak of Moria. After he killed the Balrog he too died and passed beyond the realm of this world. However he was sent back to aid us in our time of need. He told us that he had found Merry and Pippin in Fangorn and left them in the care of the Ent Treebeard. He said that he felt Merry and Pippin would have a most profound effect on the Ents in Fangorn. That the Hobbits would help them wake up and realize that they are strong.

"So we are not to follow the Hobbits, Gandalf?" Aragorn questioned.

"No my friend, our next stop is Rohan. We must seek out Theoden in his golden hall. For you are greatly needed. There is war in Rohan, and worse evil; it goes ill with Theoden. Will you come now with me?"

"Indeed Gandalf, we shall follow you." Aragorn stated as Legolas, Gimli, and I nodded our agreement. Gandalf stood and rewrapped himself in his grey cloak. He lifted up his head and let out a clear loud whistle. Moments after his note faded a great white horse appeared on the horizon. It galloped to us with graceful speed.

"That is one of the Maeras, less my eyes are cheated by some spell." Legolas murmured. Indeed it was a Maera, and a truly beautiful one at that.

"How did you come upon such a kingly horse Gandalf? For the Maera's are only to be found in Rohan, and none are given away." I questioned.

"Indeed, this is Shadowfax. He is the chief of the Maeras, lord of horses, and not even Theoden king has ever looked on a better. He has come for me: The White Rider. We are going to battle together. Behind the great white horses came three others, one for Aragorn, one for Legolas and Gimli, and one for myself. Without further word we hopped upon our horses and headed for Rohan, and King Theoden.

**March 2, 3019:**

Meduseld is a large hall with a straw roof, which makes it appear as if made of gold when seen from far off. The walls are richly decorated with tapestries depicting the history and legends of the Rohirrim, and it served as a house for the King and his kin, a meeting hall for the King and his advisors, and a gathering hall. Even from a great distance one can see the beautifully built hall. It truly does appear as a golden building atop a great hill. I can see why it is the pride and joy of the Rohirrim architects.

We came too the hall in the early morning. The town of Edoras was quite surprising. We came upon a broad path, paved with hewn stones, winding upward in short flights of well-laid steps. Many houses built of wood and many dark doors we passed. Indeed the whole town seemed fairly dark. From the buildings to the people, it seemed that some dark tiding lay over the land. Beside our way was a stone channel where a stream of clear water flowed, sparkling and chattering. At length we finally came to the crown of the hill. There stood a high platform above a green terrace, at the foot of which a bright spring gushed from a stone carved in the likeness of a horse's head; beneath was a wide basin from which the water spilled and fed the falling stream. Up the green terrace went a stair of stone, high and broad, and on either side of the top-most step were stone-hewn seats. There sat other guards, with drawn swords laid upon their knees. Their golden hair was braided upon their shoulders, the sun was blazoned upon their green shields, and their long corslets were burnished bright.

The guards in front of the great hall refused to let us enter the hall until we were unarmed. Aragron was loath to give up Anduril to the men, but did so after warning the guards not to harm his sacred blade.

"Your staff." The guard said to Gandalf.

Gandalf moaned and clutched his staff. "Foolishness! Prudence is one thing but discourtesy is another! I am old. If I may not lean upon my staff then I shall wait out here until Theoden see's fit to hobble out himself to see me."

The guard sighed but at length agreed to let us inside. At the end of the long entrance hall sat Theoden king, and beside him kneeled a wretched looking man, Grima Wormtongue.

Grima was dark-haired, emaciated, eyebrow less, and extremely pale. Upon looking at him I felt a distinct loathe, though I knew not why.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late Théoden King." Gandalf stated as he slowly started walking towards the king. Grima mummured something in the kings ear.

**"** Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Theoden asked haltingly.

Grima stood and nodded at his king. **"**A just question my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjuror chooses to appear. Lotsspell I name him, ill news is an ill guest."

Gandalf glared down at Grima.** "**Be silent. Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crude words with a witless worm." With those words he raised his staff and thrust it at Grima's face.

**"** His staff." Grima whined. "I told you to take the wizards staff!"

At this point I lost track of the conversation. For as soon as he showed his staff the guards in the hall rushed us. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Myself fought the guards and kept them away from Gandalf. After a few moments of fierce fighting we managed to subdue the guards.

Gandalf continued walking oblivious to our fight.** "**Théoden son of Thengel. Too long have you sat in the shadows." He continued to walk towards him till he was right in front of the throne.** "**Harken to me._" _He raised his hand and Theoden grimaced. "I release you from this spell." Gandalf closed his eye and tensed his hand.

**"**Hahahahaahaha. Hahahahahahah." Theoden let out a rusty and completely unexpected laugh. "You have no power here Gandalf the Grey."

Gandalf opened his eyes and glared at Theoden. Then, in one swift motion, he threw off his gray cloak, revealing his white clothes. Theoden gasped and leaned back in his chair, as if in pain.  
"I will draw you Saruman as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf quietly stated. He raised his staff and pointed it at Theoden.

**"**If I go, Théoden dies." A dark raspy voice came from Theoden's mouth, though it was not his voice.

_"_ You could not kill me, you will not kill him." Gandalf stated baldly.

Theoden growled out. "Rohan is mine."  
Gandalf raised his staff and threw him back against the throne. He groaned and then slumped down. Quick as lightning a woman with golden hair came and caught him before he fell.


	18. Beautiful Gold

A wondrous thing happened once she pushed him back upon his throne. His face became younger, his hair fairer. It seemed as though years of toil and grief had just fallen off of him. The king raised his head and looked at the woman who had caught him.

"I know your face, Eowyn..." King Theoden murmured as he stared at the golden haired woman, I could not see her face at my current angle. "Yes, Eowyn, sisters daughter, dark have been my dreams of late." He then slowly stood from his throne and looked around the room.

"Tell your guards to leave for the foot of the front stairs. And you lady, leave him with me for awhile." Gandalf spoke with a strong voice.

"Yes, you may go Eowyn, the time for fear is past." King Théoden said.

Then she turned and I beheld Lady Eowyn for the first time.

She stood before me proud and tall. Her slender form and shapely curves extenuated by her simple white gown wrought with silver. Her golden hair fell around her glorious shoulders in soft golden ringlets. Her gaze was grave and thoughtful, but it was her eyes that captivated me. Never had I seen such eyes. I found myself fixed by the most beautiful grey eyes I had ever seen. They appeared as melted silver, cold as ice, yet filled with such pity for the King she loved. Her eyes appeared to look through to ones very soul, and they seemed to peer through me. All too soon she turned from the hall and left down the stairs.

I found myself dazed for quite a few moments later. I have never been so captivated by a member of the fairer sex. Not even Galadriel, fairest of elves, seemed so beautiful to me. She seemed to me to be as fair as any, and yet, she seemed oddly cold, as a frost upon a white lily. Truly I thought my heart would break in sympathy, for I know about sorrow. And here was a woman who had clearly known more than her fair share of sorrow. And yet, in the few moments she gazed at us I could tell she was not focused on me.

She was gazing at Aragorn.

And why not? What have I, a lowly Captain, got next to the King of Gondor?

Enough! I am talking as a fool. My focus should be on the upcoming war, not a beautiful maiden. I shook my foolish head and looked upon Gandalf.

"Now lord," Gandalf said to Théoden. "Look out upon your land! Breathe the free air again!" Théoden slowly walked out onto his high terrace, and we followed.

"It is not so dark here." He said.

"No," Gandalf replied. "Nor does age lie so heavily upon your shoulders as some would have you think. Cast aside your prop!" With Gandalf's final words Théoden cast aside his staff and stood all the taller.

"I feel as one new awakened. I would now that you had come sooner Gandalf. For I fear that you have come too late, only to see the last days of my house. What is to be done?"

"Much" replied Gandalf. "But first send for Eomer, for am I not correct in thinking that you have had him arrested?"

What? He'd arrested Eomer? Why on Earth would Théoden do that? Could it have something to do with us? I found myself suddenly feeling guilty, in aiding my companions and me, had Eomer committed some treasonous act?

"It is true. He rebelled against my commands and threatened death to Grima in my halls." The old king slowly replied.

"A man may love you and yet not love Wormtongue Théoden." Gandalf solemnly said.

"That may be, I will do as you ask. Have Hama come to me. Since he proved untrustworthy as a door ward, let him become an errand runner. The guilty shall bring the guilty for judgment."

After Hama was summoned and sent for Eomer, Gandalf led Théoden to a stone seat and sat next to him. Aragorn, my companions, and I stood nearby. Gandalf talked to Théoden of the upcoming war against Saruman and Sauron, and the need of Rohan's aid in them.

Eomer came into the hall bearing his sword, which he laid at Théoden's feet. Eomer looked upon Théoden with great wonder. I then realized what a shock it must be for him to see his beloved king looking so much better.

"How comes this?" Thedoen questioned Eomer.

"it is my doing my Lord." Hama timidly replied. "I understood that Eomer was to be set free. Such joy was in my heart that I may have erred. I gave to him his sword when he requested it as he is a marshal of the mark. I brought him his sword as he bade me."

"To lay at your feet my Lord." Said Eomer. Théoden was silent for a moment before Eomer.

"Will you not take the sword?" Questioned Gandalf.

Théoden slowly stretched out his hand and took the sword. He lifted it up into the air and whilst staring at the glimmering bade he bagan to chant in the tongue of Rohan. I've no idea what he said, but the very sound of the words made me ready to march into a battle.

During his empowering chant the guards in the hall all came running up the stairs as one. They looked upon the king with great joy and laid there swords at his feet.

"It is a joy to us to see you return to your own. Never again shall it be said, Gandalf, that you come only with grief!" Eomer exclaimed. Theoden strode forward and handed Eomer back his sword.

"Go Hama, and seek my own sword! Grima has it in his keeping. Bring him also." Theoden said. He then turned to Gandalf. "Now, Gandalf, you said that you had counsel to give, I would hear it now."

Gandalf looked upon the king and smiled. "You yourself have already taken it. To put your trust in Eomer, rather than in a man of crooked mind. To cast aside regret and fear. To do the deed at hand. Every man that can ride should be sent west at once, as Eomer counseled you we must first destroy the threat of Saruman, while we have time. If we fail we fail. If we succeed-then we will face the next task. Meanwhile your people that are left, the woman and the children and the old, should fly to the refugees that you have in the mountains. Were they not prepared against just such an evil day as this? Let them take provision, but delay not, not, nor burden themselves with treasures, great or small. It is their lives that are at stake."

"This counsel seems good to me now. Let ready al my folk. But you my guest-truly you said Gandalf that the courtesy of my hall is lessened. You have had neither sleep nor food. A guest house shall be made ready: there you shall sleep, when you have eaten."

Sleep and food, how good they both sounded! Yet my heart would find no rest when Rohan's need was so dire.

"Nay, Lord" said Aragorn. " There is no rest yet for the weary. The men of Rohan must ride forth today, and we shall ride with them, axe, sword, and bow. We did not bring them to rest against your wall, Lord of the Mark. And I promised Eomer that my sword and his should be drawn together.

"Now indeed there is hope of victory!" Eomer exclaimed. Despite my weariness I felt myself smiling. Such was the power of Aragorn, with hardly a word he could make one ready for a battle.

_A/N: So we meet Eowyn for the first time, what, I wonder, will Faramir say to her when they finally get to speak?_


	19. Ride Now!

Once Théoden was given his sword, he turned to Grima. To my great surprise Gandalf turned on the despicable man.

"Nay, Eomer, you do not fully understand the mind of Master Wormtongue. He is bold and cunning. Even now he plays a game with peril and wins a throw. Down snake! Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps."

At this surprising news I felt my self unexplainably tense up. Sadly, it was not that Grima was serving Saruman (that much was obvious to anyone), no, it was at something quite different. I was mad at Grima for his other act. Had he stalked lady Eowyn? I felt myself grow ill and angered at the same time. I found such an act inexcusable. I have always felt that rapist and stalkers deserved far crueler treatment than they were given. Yet, that was not why I was mad. I barely new the beautiful woman's name but I still had the desire to protect her. I would have hit the vile man were I not wary of the damage it might do with our relationship to Théoden.

Eomer, who was by my side, narrowed his eyes. "That I knew already." He spoke in a low dangerous tone. "For that reason alone I would have slain him before, forgetting the law of the hall."  
Gandalf looked at Eomer with a small smile. "Eowyn is safe now. But you, Wormtongue, you have done what you could for your true master. Some reward you have earned at least. Yet Saruman is apt to overlook his bargains. I should advise you to go quickly and remind him, lest he forget your faithful service."

After further discussion Théoden gave the loathsome man an ultimatum. He could go to war with the rest of the Rohirriam or he could go now whither he will. But should they meet again none of us would be so merciful. Grima raised himself up to his full height (which wasn't much) and fled the room, though only after spitting upon Théoden.

Théoden let Grima leave unhindered and then led us to a dining hall. We then ate our fill.

After our meal their was much preparation to do, and very little time in which to do it. Despite my need for haste my mind would hardly stay focused on the task. I had so much to think about, was Frodo and Sam safe? What was my brother doing, was he mad at me? What had Gandalf meant about the Ents and Merry and Pippin? And, despite myself, I kept pondering the beautiful woman, Eowyn. Had Grima harmed her? Would I get the chance to see her again? If so, when?

The answer to my question, sooner than I thought.

The Rohirriam were all mustered outside, ready to march to war. We decided to head to Isengard to fight Saruman head on. We ( Gandalf, the fellowship, Eomer, and a few guards) were gathered in the great hall with Théoden for a few final pieces of business. Théoden stood from his throne and the beautiful Eowyn came in bearing a goblet of wine.

"Ferthu Théoden hál! Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with thee at thy going and coming!" With her words she handed Theoden the cup. He drank of the cup and then she proffered it to the other guest. When she came to Aragorn, her hand shook as she offered him the glass. I must admit, my heart sunk. She was clearly infatuated with Aragorn, and the fact made me feel dejected. When she came at last to me I took the proffered glass with but a faint smile. My hand briefly brushed hers as she took the glass from me and I was shocked by the coldness of her fair hand.

We finished our business and headed outside. Theoden mounted his horse and realized something important he was forgetting.

**"**Behold! I go forth, and it seems like to be my last riding. I have no child. Théodred my son is slain. I name Eomer my sister-son to be my heir. If neither of us returns, then I must now entrust my people that I would leave behind someone to rule them in my place. Is there none whom you would name? In whom do my people trust?"

Hama looked up at his King. "In the House of Eorl." I almost laughed at this declaration. Not because I doubted the sincerity of Hama's words, but because I could see the annoyance on Theoden's face.

Theoden looked at Hama as though he thought he was missing some key part of a joke."But Eomer I cannot spare, nor would he stay, and he is the last of that House."

Hama smiled at the king. "I said not Eomer. And he is not the last. There is Eowyn, daughter of Éomund, his sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, if you do not return."

Of course, Eowyn was Eomer's sister, she would be perfect.

"It shall be so. Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!" King Théoden announced to the crowd.

Lady Eowyn walked up to the king and he came off his horse. He grabbed the sword she offered and named her ruler in his absence. She took the sword back and a mail shirt that Theoden gave her.

"Take up my seat in the Golden Hall. Long may you defend Edoras if the battle goes ill."

With his final words Theoden mounted his horse. As one, the rest of the riders followed suit, including myself.

Then suddenly King Theoden stood erect on his horse and shouted in a loud, clear voice:

_Arise, arise Riders of Théoden! _

_Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! _

_Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, _

_a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! _

_Ride now, ride now! Ride to war!_

With these words he grabbed a war horn and blew such a blast upon it that it could surely be heard in Isengard. Straight away all the horns were lifted up in echoing blast. The king cried out to Snowmane and the horse charged off.

We were headed to war.

_A/N: I know that this charge actually takes place in ROTK, but I love this scene dearly so I just moved it to a spot where Faramir would witness it._


	20. The Truth of War

**March 4, 3019:**

I have not had a chance to write since we rode out to war. I shall give a summary of the last days and try to keep it brief.

We set forth toward Isengard with over 1,000 Rohirrim. We were about halfway there when we heard that Saruman had attacked the ford of Isen with 10,000 Uruk-hai. Gandalf parted our company with the promise to return and advised the King to go to Helm's Deep, where we thought that Erkenbrand, the lord of the Westfold, was leading his forces. We rode to Helms Deep with nary a break, and made it to Helm's Deep on the evening of March 3, but Erkenbrand was not yet there. He had left about 1,000 Rohirrim to defend Helm's Deep while he tried to gathered the rest of his forces.

1,000 may sound like a lot, but most had seen to many winters, or far to few. Whats worst, there wasn't even time to evacuate the many women, children, and elderly people of the Westfold who had taken refuge in the Glittering Caves behind Helm's Deep. This fact made our plot seem all the more dire, should we lose countless numbers would lose there life.

The combined forces of the Westfold and Edoras at Helm's Deep totaled about 2,000. Aragorn took charge of organizing a defense of the inner walls while Eomer took charge of organizing the defenses on the Deeping-wall.

I was with Eomer on the outer wall, I am a better marksman than swordsman so I was better put to use with his force.

I hate waiting for battle. There is nothing as disheartening as watching young ones with no battle experience waiting for an upcoming one. They try to hide there fear, thinking it unmanly and that it makes them appear weak. How untrue that is! I have tasted more battles than I care to share, yet I still cower at the thought of the upcoming one.

2,000 soldiers, most of which are ill trained, against 10,000 Uruj-hai? What hope do we honestly have? We do not even have the benefit of Gandalf's magic anymore. The Uruk-hai have come for one purpose, they wish to destroy the world of men. They will kill everyone, and everything. We must defend this city, and the people she protects.

I look over and notice a young man starring at the upcoming clouds. He is trying not to tremble as he looks over the empty land, knowing it will be full of bodies all too soon.

I lift my head intending to offer him some words of comfort, but I have not the chance. A man a few years older than him comes up behind him and lays his arm on the young man's shoulder. I can see by their face that they are brothers. The young one looks into his brother's solemn face and smiles. I find myself smiling at the simple comfort an older brother can offer. This scene has reminded me of my first battle, I should not have made it through had it not been for Boromir.

We had been tracking the Haradrim for a week; we intended to ambush them before they could cross into the realm of Gondor. The night we were to battle them I had been making boastful claims about how I would singlehandedly rid Gondor of our hated enemy. Only to Boromir would I confide in how much I was secretly dreading the upcoming battle. I was, and still am, a creature of song and lore. I hated fights with every fiber of my beinging. Boromir was well aware of this and came to comfort me before the battle. He had come up to me and put his arm on me, much like the young men I was watching.

"I fear I shall not live out the night my brother, I have never killed anyone, never fought in a battle. What if I can't do it?" I hesitantly told my older brother.

Boromir looked out at the woods and let a wry smile take his lip. "Would it surprise you, my brother, to know that I have the same fear?"

I gasped and stared at my older brother. I had always felt Boromir invincible; I had never seen him scared. "You, you're frightened? Then what hope have I?" I murmured to myself.

"Melda Toron, when you look at someone you killed you wonder what his name is, where he came from. If he was really evil at heart. What lies or threats led him on this long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there...in peace."

He turned his head and stared at me. "All who live to see such things feel thus." He lifted my head and looked me in the eyes. "The key is to not stop feeling this way. Once you stop fearing battle, and stop feeling guilt at anothers death, then you are no better than an Orc. Unlike Orc's we are not fighting to bring death, we are fighting to preserve life." He lifted his head and looked at the numerous stasrs. "We fight for the good of Gondor, and that Faramir is worth the fight."

I have never forgotten that night, nor have I forgotten the words my brother spoke. Indeed, I have taken his advice to my heart. I see now that my brother showed wisdom that night far beyond his years.

_A/N: Melda is love in elvish and Toron is brother, so Boromir called Faramir, Loved brother..._


	21. The Battle of Helms Deep

_A/N: Sorry this chapter is shorter than usual, I'll make up for it next time :)_

The battle of Helms Deep started at midnight. We could hear the drums of the approaching Urak-hai for an hour before they could be seen. Then, in a sudden onslaught they appeared out of the deep dark of the Deeping Comb. The outer defenses fought hard, but they were overrun after about an hour.

The battle for Helms Deep had reached the Deeping Wall. After midnight on March 4, a storm began and the assault was launched on Helm's Deeps wall. Most of the actual battle is a blur of water and blood. However, I shall attempt to give an accurate description.

A group of huge Orcs and Dunlendings, men who occupied land near the Rohirriam and despise everything about Rohan, advanced up the causeway leading to the gates of the Hornburg. We shot at them as best as we could from above, but they held their shields over their heads to deflect arrows and rocks from above. They battered the gates with two great tree trunks. Eomer and Aragorn led a sortie from a side door and drove the attackers off the causeway. We managed to distract them long enough for the damaged gates to be semi repaired.

Once we retreated back into Helm's Deep Saruman's forces renewed their attack on the gates and tried to scale the Deeping-wall with ladders and grappling hooks. We fended them off from the top of the wall but our army began to grow weary. It was now about 3 am.

Then Orcs managed to creep into Helm's Deep through the culvert where the Deeping-stream passed under the Deeping-wall. Gimli noticed there advance and sounded the alarm. Gamling led a group of Westfold-men to drive the Orcs out. Gimli slew a number of Orcs with his axe and helped block up the opening of the culvert. Up on the Deeping-wall, Legolas and I had been hard at work with our bows. Unfortunetly we ran out of arrows quickly and had to use our and swords.

Not long before dawn, an unbelievable changed happened in the battle. We had been managing to hold the Orcs and Uruak-hai of but one Orc changed that. An explosive device created by Saruman unlike anything I had ever seen was set off in the culvert by an orc, whom Legolas and I couldn't kill in time, and the Deeping-wall was breached. Actually, a good portion of the Deeping wall was blown to pieces, there really wasn't that much of it left to breach. At the same time as the explosion a 100 ladders were raised against the wall. So now Saruman's forces were coming in through the wreckage of the Deeping wall and over the wall. Eomer, Gimli, Gamling, and several other soldiers went to the Narrows in front of the entrance to the Glittering Caves where the refugees hid so that they could be protected. Most of the rest of the Rohirrim entered the fastness of the Hornburg, and Aragorn, Legolas and I covered their retreat.

Theoden had boasted that the Hornburg had never been captured by an enemy, but Saruman's forces were quickly overwhelming us. Theoden and Aragorn came up with a glorious plan for the Rohirriam. At dawn what was left of the Rohirriam army would ride out of the city and face the overwhelming army head came all to quickly and we mounted our horses for the final charge. We blew the horn of Helm Hammerhand from the Hornburg and rode from the ruined gates of Helm Deep. The horn blast could be heard throughout Helm's Deep, and we heard a horn blast in return. We rode out with all the survivers of the battle, including the protectors of the Glittering Cave.

However, the layout of the battle had changed. As we rode out from the Deeping Wall we beheld two unexpected sites.

The white Rider had returned with serious reinforcements.

Gandalf had come with the army of Erkenbrand, over 1,000 Rohirrim. They were charging down the western ridge of the Deeping comb towards us. We had trapped Sarumans Army between our forces.

But far more unexpected than Gandalf's return was what was in the valley of the Deeping-comb.

There was a vast forest where there had been naught but flat land the night before. The surrounded Orcs and Urak-hai ran into this strange forest, and they never emerged.

They were killed by the trees.

The battle of Helm's Deep was over, and we had won. With naught but 3,000 men we had one against an army of 10,000.


	22. To Isengard

_A/N:Sorry for not updating for awhile..._

After the battle we assessed our losses. We had lost quite a large number of the Rohirrrim guard. We made two burial mounds in the Deeping-Comb. One was for the men of the Westfold, and the other was for the men of the East. We never saw the Orcs again; the trees even buried them under a pile of stones. After the burials we took a brief lunch. After our meal, Theoden, Eomer, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, myself, and twenty members of the Rohirrim guard set out for Isengard. We had been told by Gandalf that Saruman would not prove much of a problem any longer, hence the small guard. We rode the rest of the day and decided to camp by the Isen after midnight.

I am now so terribly weary. I have hardly slept any this past week. We have chased two hobbits for days on end, kept watch outside of the menacing Fangorn, rode to war with the Rohirrim, and now we ride to Isengard. I do not foresee myself getting any real rest for a very long time.  
**March 5, 3019:**

At dawn we set off for Isengard again. We arrived at its gates at around noon.** T**here we saw close beside them a great rubble-heap; for Isengard was indeed in ruins. And suddenly we noticed two small figures lying on the pile at their ease. One seemed asleep; the other, with crossed legs and arms behind his head, leaned back against a broken rock and sent from his mouth long wisps and little rings of thin blue smoke.  
For a moment we all stared at them in wonder. Amid all the wreck of Isengard this was them the strangest and most glorious sight to me. But before any of us could even think to speak, the small smoke-breathing figure became aware of sprang to his big feet and bowed very low, putting his hand upon his chest.  
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard," he said. "We are the door-wardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! is overcome with weariness" here he gave the other a gentle kick with his foot "is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. The Lord Saruman is within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or, doubtless he would be here to welcome such honorable guests."

Doubtless he would!' laughed Gandalf and I found myself joining in with his joyous laughter. 'And was it Saruman that ordered you to guard his damaged doors, and watch for the arrival of guests, when your attention could be spared from plate and bottle?'

'No, good sir, the matter escaped him,' answered Merry gravely, which I found to be almost comical, he was trying so hard to look offended. 'He has been much occupied. Our orders came from Treebeard, who has taken over the management of Isengard. He commanded me to welcome the Lord of Rohan with fitting words. I have done my best.'

'And what about your companions? What about Legolas and me?' cried Gimli, unable to contain himself longer. He tried to look furious at the young Hobbits but nobody could miss the joyful twinkle in his eyes.'You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool-pated truants! A fine hunt you have led us! Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle and death, to rescue you! And here we find you feasting and idling-and smoking! Smoking! Where did you come by the weed, you villains? Hammer and tongs! I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst. It will be a marvel!'

'You speak for me, Gimli,' laughed Legolas with his musical voice. 'Though I would sooner learn how they came by the wine.'

'One thing you have not found in your hunting, and that's brighter wits,' said Pippin, opening an eye. 'Here you find us sitting on a field of victory, amid the plunder of armies, and you wonder how we came by a few well-earned comforts!'

'Well-earned?' said Gimli. 'I cannot believe that!'

"Nor can I!" I laughed out.

The Riders that had accompanied us to Isegard laughed at our antics. 'It cannot be doubted that we witness the meeting of dear friends,' said Théoden. 'So these are the lost ones of your company, Gandalf? The days are fated to be filled with marvels. Already I have seen many since I left my house; and now here before my eyes stand yet another of the folk of legend. Are not these the Halflings, that some among us call the Holbytlan?'

'Hobbits, if you please, lord,' said Pippin with a bow of his curly head.

'Hobbits?' said Théoden. 'Your tongue is strangely changed; but the name sounds not unfitting so. Hobbits! No report that I have heard does justice to the truth.'

Merry bowed; and Pippin got up and bowed lower. 'You are gracious, lord; or I hope that I may so take your words,' he said. 'And here is another marvel! I have wandered in many lands, since I left my home, and never till now have I found people that knew any story concerning hobbits.' He raised his head and looked closer at the horse lord.

'My people came out of the North long ago,' said Théoden with a smile. 'But I will not deceive you: we know no tales about hobbits. All that is said among us is that far away, over many hills and rivers, live the halfling folk that dwell in holes in sand-dunes. But there are no legends of their deeds. for it is said that they do little, and avoid the sight of men, being able to vanish in a twinkling: and they can change their voices to resemble the piping of birds. But it seems that more could be said.'

'It could indeed, lord,' said Merry.

'For one thing,' said Théoden, 'I had not heard that they spouted smoke from their mouths.'

'That is not surprising,' answered Merry; 'for it is an art which we have not practised for more than a few generations. It was Tobold Hornblower, of Longbottom in the Southfarthing, who first grew the true pipe-weed in his gardens, about the year 1070 according to our reckoning. How old Toby came by the plant…'

'You do not know your danger, Théoden,' interrupted Gandalf. 'These hobbits will sit on the edge of ruin and discuss the pleasures of the table, or the small doings of their fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers, and remoter cousins to the ninth degree, if you encourage them with undue patience.( I laughed out loud at this statement) Some other time would be more fitting for the history of smoking. Where is Treebeard, Merry?'

'Away on the north side, I believe. He went to get a drink-of clean water. Most of the other Ents are with him, still busy at their work - over there.' Merry waved his hand towards the steaming lake; and as I looked, I heard a distant rumbling and rattling, as if an avalanche was falling from the mountain-side. Far away came a _hoom-hom_, as of horns blowing triumphantly. I found myself wondering what the Ent might look like, all the tales I had ever heard made them sound truly fantastical.

'And is Orthanc then left unguarded?' asked Gandalf.

'There is the water,' said Merry. 'But Quickbeam and some others are watching it. Not all those posts and pillars in the plain are of Saruman's planting. Quickbeam, I think, is by the rock, near the foot of the stair.'

I looked over and beheld what appeared to be a tree.

'Yes, a tall grey Ent is there,' said Legolas, 'but his arms are at his sides, and he stands as still as a door-tree.'

'It is past noon,' said Gandalf, 'and we at any rate have not eaten since early morning. Yet I wish to see Treebeard as soon as may be. Did he leave me no message, or has plate and bottle driven it from your mind?'

'He left a message,' said Merry, 'and I was coming to it, but I have been hindered by many other questions. I was to say that, if the Lord of the Mark and Gandalf will ride to the northern wall they will find Treebeard there, and he will welcome them. I may add that they will also find food of the best there, it was discovered and selected by your humble servants.' He bowed once again.

Gandalf laughed. 'That is better!' he said. 'Well, Théoden. will you ride with me to find Treebeard? We must go round about, but it is not far. When you see Treebeard, you will learn much. For Treebeard is Fangorn, and the eldest and chief of the Ents, and when you speak with him you will hear the speech of the oldest of all living things.'

'I will come with you,' said Théoden. 'Farewell, my hobbits! May we meet again in my house! There you shall sit beside me and tell me all that your hearts desire: the deeds of your grandsires, as far as you can reckon them; and we will speak also of Tobold the Old and his herb-lore. Farewell!'

The hobbits bowed low.


	23. The Fear of What Could Have Been

_A/N: Don't worry guys, I will tell you about Sam and Frodo really soon :D_

We followed what was left of the road from the gates to Orthanc, going slowly, for the flag-stones were cracked and slimed and Merry had warned us that they could break, causing us to fall through to the depths below. We came upon Gandalf and Theoden at the foot of the stairs of Orthanc.

"I have now a last task to do before I go: I must pay Saruman a farewell visit." Gandalf said. "Dangerous, and probably useless; but it must be done. Those of you who wish may come with me - but beware! And do not jest! This is not the time for it.'

'I will come,' said Gimli. 'I wish to see him and learn if he really looks like you.'

'And how will you learn that, Master Dwarf?' said Gandalf. 'Saruman could look like me in your eyes, if it suited his purpose with you. And are you yet wise enough to detect all his counterfeits? Well, we shall see, perhaps. He may be shy of showing himself before many different eyes together. But I have ordered all the Ents to remove themselves from sight, so perhaps we shall persuade him to come out.'

'What's the danger?' asked Pippin. 'Will he shoot at us, and pour fire out of the windows; or can he put a spell on us from a distance?'

I found myself smiling at the awed look on Pippins face; I had so missed his dear face.

'The last is most likely, if you ride to his door with a light heart,' said Gandalf. 'But there is no knowing what he can do, or may choose to try. A wild beast cornered is not safe to approach. And Saruman has powers you do not guess. Beware of his voice!'

His voice? What powers could his voice hold? I fear I did not care to learn.

Gandalf and the king dismounted. 'I will go up,' said Gandalf. 'I have been in Orthanc and I know my peril.'

'And I too will go up,' said the king. 'I am old, and fear no peril any more. I wish to speak with the enemy who has done me so much wrong. Éomer shall come with me, and see that my aged feet do not falter.'

'As you will,' said Gandalf. 'Aragorn shall come with me. Let the others await us at the foot of the stairs. They will hear and see enough, if there is anything to hear or see.'

'Nay!' said Gimli. 'Legolas and I wish for a closer view. We alone here represent our kindred. We also will come behind.'

'Come then!' said Gandalf, and with that he climbed the steps, and Théoden went beside him.

The Riders of Rohan sat uneasily upon their horses, on either side of the stair, and looked up darkly at the great tower, clearly scared for their Lords. Merry and Pippin sat on the bottom step, looking both unimportant and unsafe.

'Half a sticky mile from here to the gate!' muttered Pippin. 'I wish I could slip off back to the guardroom unnoticed! What did we come for? We are not wanted.'

"That is quite untrue master Perigrin." I stated as I sat beside the hobbit.

"Faramir?!" He cried excitedly. "I am so glad to see you!" Then, he quite surprised me by jumping up and embracing my neck.

I took a breath and inhaled his unique scent, he always smelled of a fresh fall breeze and apples, his favorite treat. I smiled to myself and stroked his soft curls.

After a moment I gently pushed the hobbit back.

"Let me have a look at you Pippin, and you Merry." I turned in my spot so that I could face both hobbits. "Are you both all right?" I quietly asked.

Merry gave me a small smile and nodded his head. "Quite all right Faramir."

Pippin looked at his cousin then back at me, he was practically bouncing on his heals in excitement. "Your alive Faramir!" He finally exclaimed.

"Alive? Of course I'm alive, what ever made you think I wasn;t?" I asked without a thought.

Merry gave me a stern look and shook his head. "The last time we saw you, you had two arrows sticking out of your side, and was losing your battle with that big Urak-hai."He simply said.

Pippin looked at me and nodded his head gravely. "Can't you see why we thought you were dead? That scene and the knowledge of your dream made it seem like you didn't have any chance at being alive."

"My dream?" I questioned: "How did you come by knowledge of my dream?"

Pippin suddenly looked from looking grave, to looking guilty and embarrassed. "Umm... Never mind that! How did you make it out of that battle alive?"

"Don't try to change the question you conniving little hobbit!" I laughed. "I'll tell you soon as you give me a decent answer."

Merry looked over at his cousin and gave a playful grin. "It was an accident really." He started. "He woke up in the middle of the night and heard you and Aragorn talking; your dream really frightened him." He looked at me and tilted his head. "Didn't you ever wonder why we were just staring at the Urak-hai when you came into the field? We realized that had to be the field you dreamt of. And we were starting to realize what would lead your brother to his death. We were the only ones in that field. Then you came and it appeared you would have what could have been your brother's fate. We tried to stop those uruk-hai but we weren't quick have no idea how lucky we feel." He raised his eyes and looked at me straight in the eyes. "For your alive." He then looked at me with such eyes, as though he feared I might disappear before him that I feared my heart would burst. His gaze and Pippin's quite sob drove me to tears.

"Oh my dear Hobbits." I murmured as I pulled them into an embrace; "Tis I who am lucky. For I to know that fear. I thought I had let you both down, and that my failure would lead to your deaths." I pulled back and looked them both in the eyes. "My dear Hobbits, you two are most definitely worth dying for. If I truly had died in that field, and my sacrifice had enabled you both to live, then I can say with out a doubt, that I should have no hesitation in standing in that field again."

Pippin took a shaky breath and gave me a weak smile. "Thanks, but come now Faramir, lets stop this blubbering. Why should we sit on this step crying over what could have been, when there is a store house full of food, weed, and ale?" Then he gave me a mischievous grin and stood. "What say you? Shall we examine the stock?"

What else could I do? I got up and followed the young hobbit.


	24. Many Meetings

We took some small refreshments and then headed back to Orthanc. At the moment we arrived, a heavy shining circular thing came hurtling down from above. It glanced off the iron rail, and passing close to Gandalf's head, it smote the stair on which he stood. The rail rang and snapped. The stair cracked and splintered in glittering sparks. But the ball was unharmed: it rolled on down the steps, a globe of crystal, dark, but glowing with a heart of fire. As it bounded away towards a pool Pippin ran after it and picked it up. Apparently there meeting had not gone well.

'The murderous rogue!' cried Éomer. Gandalf looked up at the top of Orthanc unmoved.

"No, that was not thrown by Saruman, he said; nor even at his bidding, I think. It came from a window far above. A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, I fancy, but ill aimed." Wormtoungue. At that name I felt myself grow angered as the memories of his treasons acts came flooding back into my memory.

"The aim was poor, maybe, because he could not make up his mind which he hated more, you or Saruman," said Aragorn.

'That may be so,' said Gandalf. 'Small comfort will those two have in their companionship: they will gnaw one another with words. But the punishment is just. If Wormtongue ever comes out of Orthanc alive, it will be more than he deserves."

He then abruptly turned around and glared at Pippin who was coming up the stairs bearing the ball as though it were a very great weight.

'Here, my lad, I'll take that! I did not ask you to handle it,' He went down to meet him and hastily took the dark globe from the hobbit, wrapping it in the folds of his cloak. 'I will take care of this,' he said. 'It is not a thing, I guess, that Saruman would have chosen to cast away.'

'But he may have other things to cast,' said Gimli. 'If that is the end of the debate, let us go out of stone's throw, at least!' The rest of us nodded our heads in agreement with the dwarfs words.

'It is the end,' said Gandalf. 'Let us go.'

We then turned our backs on the doors of Orthanc, and went down.

'Well, that is done,' said Gandalf simply. 'Now I must find Treebeard and tell him how things have gone.'

'He will have guessed, surely?' said Merry. 'Were they likely to end any other way?'

I had to agree with Merry, the ball also seemed a pretty good sign that our meeting had gone most awry.

'Not likely,' answered Gandalf, 'though they came to the balance of a hair. But I had reasons for trying; some merciful and some less so. First Saruman was shown that the power of his voice was waning. He cannot be both tyrant and counsellor. When the plot is ripe it remains no longer secret. Yet he fell into the trap, and tried to deal with his victims piece-meal, while others listened. Then I gave him a last choice and a fair one: to renounce both Mordor and his private schemes, and make amends by helping us in our need. He knows our need, none better. Great service he could have rendered. But he has chosen to withhold it, and keep the power of Orthanc. He will not serve, only command. He lives now in terror of the shadow of Mordor, and yet he still dreams of riding the storm. Unhappy fool! He will be devoured, if the power of the East stretches out its arms to Isengard. We cannot destroy Orthanc from without, but Sauron - who knows what he can do?'

'And what if Sauron does not conquer? What will you do to him?' asked Pippin.

'I? Nothing!' said Gandalf. 'I will do nothing to him. I do not wish for mastery. What w ill become of him? I cannot say. I grieve that so much that was good now festers in the tower. Still for us things have not gone badly. Strange are the turns of fortune! Often does hatred hurt itself! I guess that, even if we had entered in, we could have found few treasures in Orthanc more precious than the thing which Wormtongue threw down at us.'

A shrill shriek; suddenly cut off, came from an open window high above. Apparently Gandalf was correct.

'It seems that Saruman thinks so too,' said Gandalf. 'Let us leave them!'

"Yes," Gimli murmured, "before he throws anything else down!"

We returned to the ruins of the gate. Hardly had we passed out under the arch, when, from among the shadows of the piled stones where they had stood, Treebeard and a dozen other Ents came striding up. Aragorn, Gimli Legolas, and I gazed at them in wonder.

'Here are four of my companions, Treebeard,' said Gandalf. 'I have spoken of them, but you have not yet seen them.' He then named us one by one.

The Ent looked at us for a long moment, and then spoke to each of us in turn. Last he turned to Legolas. 'So you have come all the way from Mirkwood, my good Elf? A very great forest it used to be!'

'And still is,' said Legolas. 'But not so great that we who dwell there ever tire of seeing new trees. I should dearly love to journey in Fangorn's Wood. I scarcely passed beyond the eaves of it, and I did not wish to turn back.'

Treebeard's eyes gleamed with pleasure. 'I hope you may have your wish, ere the hills be much older,' he said.

'I will come, if I have the fortune,' said Legolas. 'I have made a bargain with my friend that, if all goes well, we will visit Fangorn together - by your leave.'

'Any Elf that comes with you will be welcome,' said Treebeard.

'The friend I speak of is not an Elf,' said Legolas; 'I mean Gimli, Glóin's son here.' Gimli bowed low, and the axe slipped from his belt and clattered on the ground. The old Ent looked first at the dwarf then at the axe laying on the ground.

'Hoom, hm! Ah now,' said Treebeard, looking dark-eyed at him. 'A dwarf and an axe-bearer! Hoom! I have good will to Elves; but you ask much. This is a strange friendship!' 'Strange it may seem,' said Legolas and he took a step towards Gimli; "but while Gimli lives I shall not come to Fangorn alone. His axe is not for trees, but for orc-necks, O Fangorn, Master of Fangorn's Wood. Forty-two he hewed in the battle."

'Hoo! Come now!' said Treebeard with a sparkle in his eyes. 'That is a better story! Well, well, things will go as they will; and there is no need to hurry to meet them. But now we must part for a while. Day is drawing to an end, yet Gandalf says you must go ere nightfall, and the Lord of the Mark is eager for his own house.'

"Yes, we must go, and go now," said Gandalf. 'I fear that I must take your gatekeepers from you. But you will manage well enough without them.'

'Maybe I shall,' said Treebeard. 'But I shall miss them. We have become friends in so short a while that I think I must be getting hasty - growing backwards towards youth, perhaps. But there, they are the first new thing under Sun or Moon that I have seen for many a long, long day. I shall not forget them. I have put their names into the Long List. Ents will remember it.

_Ents the earthborn, old as mountains,_

_the wide-walkers, water drinking;_

_and hungry as hunters, the Hobbit children,_

_the laughing-folk, the little people,_

they shall remain friends as long as leaves are renewed. Fare you well! But if you hear news up in your pleasant land, in the Shire, send me word! You know what I mean: word or sight of the Entwives. Come yourselves if you can!'

'We will!' said Merry and Pippin together, and they turned away hastily. Treebeard looked at them, and was silent for a while, shaking his head thoughtfully. Then he turned to Gandalf.

'So Saruman would not leave?' he said. 'I did not think he would. His heart is as rotten as a black Huorn's. Still, if I were overcome and all my trees destroyed, I would not come while I had one dark hole left to hide in.'

'No,' said Gandalf. 'But you have not plotted to cover all the world with your trees and choke all other living things. But there it is, Saruman remains to nurse his hatred and weave again such webs as he can. He has the Key of Orthanc. But he must not be allowed to escape.'

'Indeed no! Ents will see to that,' said Treebeard with a fierce gleam in his auburn eyes. 'Saruman shall not set foot beyond the rock, without my leave. Ents will watch over him.'


	25. A Most Unquenchable Hobbit

_A/N:Sorry for not updating for awhile... I decided to make this chapter extra long to make up for it!  
_

Once again I have to much to write and not enough time!

We rode out of Isengard immediately after our meeting with Treebeard and set off for Dunharrow. We made camp at Do Baran around 10 pm. We set to sleep around 10:30, and I was sound asleep by 11.

But not for long.

At around 11:30 I was awoken by the worst sound, that of a hobbit crying out in fright and anguish. I looked up and beheld a most troubling scene.

Gandalf was standing over the palantir looking at in enraged. "So this is the thief!" Gandalf cried. Hastily he cast his cloak over the globe where it lay. 'But you, Pippin! This is a grievous turn to things!'

He knelt by Pippin's body: the hobbit was lying on his back rigid, with unseeing eyes staring up at the sky. My heart stopped when I saw him, what could have caused such a thing to happen to him?

Gandalf took Pippin's hand and bent over his face, listening for his breath; then he laid his hands on his brow murmuring something under his breath. The hobbit shuddered and he closed his eyes. He cried out in fright and then rigidly sat up opening his eyes. He stared in utter bewilderment at all the faces round him.

"It is not for you, Saruman!" he cried in an unnaturally shrill and toneless voice so very different from his normally cheerful one. He looked at Gandalf in terror and struggled to get up and escape but Gandalf held him gently and quite firmly.

"Peregrin Took!" he said firmly. "Come back!"

The hobbit relaxed and fell back clinging to the wizard's hand for support. "Gandalf!" he cried, as tears sprang from his small eyes. "Gandalf! Forgive me!"

"Forgive you?" said the wizard quietly. "Tell me first what you have done!"

"I, I took the ball and looked at it," stammered Pippin; "and I saw things that frightened me. And I wanted to go away, but I couldn't. And then he came and questioned me; and he looked at me, and, and that is all I remember."

"That won't do. What did you see, and what did you say?" Said Gandalf sternly.

Pippin shut his eyes and shivered, but said nothing more. We all stared at him in silence, except Merry who turned away from his beloved cousin with tears of anger and fear in his eyes. But Gandalf's face was still stern. "Speak!" he commanded.

In a low voice Pippin began again. "I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements," he said slowly. "And tiny stars. It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. Then the stars went in and out-they were cut off by things with wings. Very big, I think, really; but in the glass they looked like bats wheeling round the tower. I thought there were nine of them. One began to fly straight towards me, getting bigger and bigger. It had a horrible - no, no! I can't say.'

'I tried to get away, because I thought it would fly out; but when it had covered all the globe, it disappeared. Then _he_ came. He did not speak so that I could hear words. He just looked, and I understood.'

'"So you have come back? Why have you neglected to report for so long?"

'I did not answer. He said: "Who are you?" I still did not answer, but it hurt me horribly; and he pressed me, so I said: "A hobbit."

'Then suddenly he seemed to see me, and he laughed at me. It was cruel. It was like being stabbed with knives. I struggled. But he said: "Wait a moment! We shall meet again soon. Tell Saruman that this dainty is not for him. I will send for it at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"

'Then he gloated over me. I felt I was falling to pieces. No, no! I can't say any more. I don't remember anything else." The terror in the little hobbits eyes as he finished was enough to drive even Gandalf to sympathy.

"Look at me!" Gandalf ordered softly.

Pippin looked up straight into Gandalf's wise eyes. The wizard held his gaze for a moment in silence. Then his face grew gentler, and the shadow of a smile appeared. He laid his hand softly on Pippin's little head.

"All right!' he said." Say no more! You have taken no harm. There is no lie in your eyes, as I feared. But he did not speak long with you. A fool, but an honest fool, you remain, Peregrin Took. Wiser ones might have done worse in such a pass. But mark this! You have been saved, and all your friends too, mainly by good fortune, as it is called. You cannot count on it a second time. If he had questioned you, then and there, almost certainly you would have told all that you know, to the ruin of us all. But he was too eager. He did not want information only: he wanted you, quickly, so that he could deal with you in the Dark Tower, slowly. Don't shudder! If you will meddle in the affairs of Wizards, you must be prepared to think of such things. But come! I forgive you. Be comforted! Things have not turned out as evilly as they might."

He then lifted the young hobbit up of the floor and placed him gently into his bed. Merry came up from behind Gandalf and sat next to his cousin, stroking his soft curls.

"Lie there and rest, if you can, Pippin!' said Gandalf. "Trust me. If you feel an itch in your palms again, tell me of it! Such things can be cured. But anyway, my dear hobbit, don't put a lump of rock under my elbow again! Now, I will leave you two together for a while."

He then turned and walked over to where Legolas, Aragorn, and Myself were standing.

"Is he alright Gandalf?" I asked hesitantly. I truly do not think I could bare it if something were to happen to Pippin. He is the sort of person that you cannot imagine sad, and when you see that sort of person, you feel as if you would move the whole world if it would make them smile again.

"I believe no lasting damage has been done." He answered softly. "He did not hold on to it long, and Hobbits have a truly astounding recovery speed. Still, the pain and shock of the experience should fade quickly, perhaps to quickly." Gandalf then turned his head from me and looked at Aragorn appraisingly. After a moment he continued. "Would you take and guard the Orthanc-stone? It is a dangerous charge."

Aragorn stared, first at Gandalf then at the evil stone. "Dangerous indeed." He said, "But not to all. There is one who may claim it by right. For this assuredly is the _palantír_ of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil, set here by the Kings of Gondor. Now my hour draws near. I will take it."

Gandalf looked at Aragorn, and then, he lifted the covered Stone, and bowed as he presented it to Aragorn.

"Receive it, lord!" he said: "in earnest of other things that shall be given back. But if I may counsel you in the use of your own, do not use it - yet! Be wary!"

"When have I been hasty or unwary, who have waited and prepared for so many long years?" said Aragorn.

"Never yet. Do not then stumble at the end of the road," answered Gandalf warily. "But at the least keep this thing secret. You, and all others that stand here! The hobbit, Peregrin, above all should not know where it is bestowed. The evil fit may come on him again. For alas! he has handled it and looked in it, as should never have happened. He ought never to have touched it in Isengard, and there I should have been quicker. But my mind was bent on Saruman, and I did not at once guess the nature of the Stone. Then I was weary, and as I lay pondering it, sleep overcame me. Now I know!"

"Yes, there can be no doubt," said Aragorn. "At last we know the link' between Isengard and Mordor, and how it worked. Much is explained.' 'Strange powers have our enemies, and strange weaknesses!' said Théoden. 'But it has long been said: _oft evil will shall evil mar_."

"That many times is seen,' said Gandalf. 'But at this time we have been strangely fortunate. Maybe, I have been saved by this hobbit from a grave blunder. I had considered whether or not to probe this Stone myself to find its uses. Had I done so, I should have been revealed to him myself. I am not ready for such a trial, if indeed I shall ever be so: But even if I found the power to withdraw myself, it would be disastrous for him to see me, yet - until the hour comes when secrecy will avail no longer."

'That hour is now come, I think,' said Aragorn. He carefully took the wrapped stone and set in his pack alongside his other possessions.

"Not yet,' said Gandalf. "There remains a short while of doubt which we must use. The Enemy, it is clear, thought that the Stone was in Orthanc - why should he not? And that therefore the hobbit was captive there, driven to look in the glass for his torment by Saruman. That dark mind will be filled now with the voice and face of the hobbit and with expectation: it may take some time before he learns his error. We must snatch that time. We have been too leisurely. We must move. The neighbourhood of Isengard is no place now to linger in. I will ride ahead at once with Peregrin will be better for him than lying in the dark while others sleep." He then turned sharply and peered at me. "I believe it would be wise for you to follow me with all due speed. I think your presences will be needed most despeartley in Minas Tirith."

I stared at the wizard in shock. Leave for Gondor? "My father shall not welcome me." I quietly responded. "I believe you would fare better without my aid."

"Be that as it may, you shall accompany me." He answered.

"I will keep Éomer and ten Riders," said the king. "They shall ride with me at early day. The rest may go with Aragorn and ride as soon as they have a mind."

"As you will," said Gandalf. "But make all the speed you may to the cover of the hills, to Helm's Deep!"

At that moment a shadow fell over us. The bright moonlight we were meeting under was suddenly cut off. And at the disapearence of the light came a blind fear and a deadly cold that made one forget what it was like to feel safe and warm. With a shiver I looked up. A vast winged shape passed over the moon like a black cloud. It wheeled and went north, flying at a speed greater than any wind of Middle-earth. The stars fainted before it. And then, it was gone.


	26. Gondor at Last

_A/N: Don't worry guys, I really will tell you about Sam and Frodo really soon, like next chapter or so.  
_

**March 9 3019:**

I have been riding for nearly three solid days. Gandalf, Pippin, and myself have not stopped riding save to sleep, for very few hours even then. Never have I seen a horse ride so fast as Shadowfax, yet, my steed has managed to keep pace with the Maera. I believe that it drew strength just from being in the great horse's presence. But I digress with talk of my horse.

This morning we saw Minas Tirith, we should reach its beautiful towers by noon.

{}-{}-{}-{}

My reunion with my father went far worse than even I thought it would.

We entered the great hall where my father sat, and he would not even look up to greet us. We came up to his throne and Gandalf spoke first.

""Hail, Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Ecthelion! I come with counsel and tidings in this dark hour."

Denethor looked up and stared darkly at, first the wizard, and then me. After a moment he rose before us, his dark fur lined robe reaching the floor as he stood.

"Dark indeed is the hour,' he said slowly and heatedly, "and at such times you are wont to come, Mithrandir."

At his words Gandalf rose to his full height and seemed to grow more bright, while Denethor seemed to shrink and darken. "I have not ridden hither from Isengard, one hundred and fifty leagues, with the speed of wind, only to parry words." He said bitingly, "Is it naught to you that Théoden has fought a great battle and that Isengard is overthrown, and that I have broken the staff of Saruman?"  
"It is much to me. But I know already sufficient of these deeds for my own counsel against the menace of the East." He turned his dark eyes from Gandalf and onto me. And when he gazed at me I noticed great likeness between the two of them. I could feel the strain between them, as if they were gauging who was the more powerful.

"Yea," he said; "for though the Stones be lost, they say, still the lords of Gondor have keener sight than lesser men, and many messages come to them. But sit now!" Denethor finished, and he pointed out a table for us to sit at. Once we were seated, servants brought forth our meal and we ate.

"Now tell me your tale, my liege," said Denethor, half kindly; half mockingly. "For the words of one whom my son has so befriended will be welcome indeed." He made a point of glaring at me as he said the word son.

Gandalf told our tale in a brief summary, leaving out the details of the Ring, most wisely I believed. Once he had finished the short tale my father questioned Pippin on the tale. But he never once addressed me, he did not even look at me.

Once we finished our meal he bade us take rest in our prepared rooms.

"And you, my Lord Mithrandir, shall come too, as and when you will. None shall hinder your coming to me at any time, save only in my brief hours of sleep. Let your wrath at an old man's folly run off and then return to my comfort!" My father said with barely disguised annoyance.

"Folly?" said Gandalf lowly and dangerously. "Nay, my lord, when you are a dotard you will die. Do you think that I do not understand your purpose in questioning for an hour one who knows the least, while I sit by?"

"If you understand it, then be content," returned Denethor equally harshly. "Pride would be folly that disdained help and counsel at need; but you deal out such gifts according to your own designs. Yet the Lord of Gondor is not to be made the tool of other men's purposes, however worthy. And to him there is no purpose higher in the world as it now stands than the good of Gondor; and the rule of Gondor, my lord, is mine and no other man's, unless the king should come again."

"Unless the king should come again?" said Gandalf. "Well, my lord Steward, it is your task to keep some kingdom still against that event, which few now look to see. In that task you shall have all the aid that you are pleased to ask for. But I will say this: the rule of no realm is mine, neither of Gondor nor any other, great or small. But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care. And for my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For I also am a steward. Did you not know?' And with those words he turned and strode from the hall with Pippin running at his side. I turned to follow him, for I did not wish to speak to my father.

"Faramir! Come hither, I am not finished with you." Gandalf turned his head and gave a long look. After a moment he nodded his head and continued out of the hall. I took a breath and turned around to face my father.

"Sire?" I questioned.

His eyes shown at me darkly, I knew in that instance that I would not leave this hall unpunished.

"Was this tale accurate?"

"Yes father."

He strode from his throne towards me. He stopped two paces from me. "You lie." He spat out. "But that is not why I have called you forth. Why did you betray us? Why did you take your brothers place at Rivendell?"

"Because of my dream father. I knew that if Boromir went to Imaldris that he should never return to Gondor. I would rather lose my life than bring harm to his. I hope I have not done ill in your eyes."

Ill?' cried Denethor, and his eyes flashed suddenly. 'Why do you ask? Or do you ask for my judgement on all your deeds? Your bearing is lowly in my presence, yet it is long now since you turned from your own way at my counsel. See, you have spoken skilfully, as ever; but I, have I not seen your eye fixed on Mithrandir, seeking whether you said well or too much, whether you should even come to my call? He has long had your heart in his keeping. My son, your father is old but not yet dotard. I can see and hear, as was my wont; and little of what you or the wizards have half said or left unsaid is now hidden from me. I know the answer to many riddles."

And then he was upon me.


	27. The Price of Loyalty

"Traitor!" He cried as he slapped my face. I gasped and fell back onto the floor as he continued to slap my face.

"Traitor! Do you not think I know of him whom you have not spoken of?! You would betray us all to this ranger from the north! Well, I tell you, I will not allow it!" He stopped hitting me and stood up tall and proud. His eyes gleamed darkly as he looked down upon me. "The rule of Gondor is mine and mine alone, none shall take it from me, let alone this ranger. I will not bow to him, not to him or any man!" He raised his head and looked beyond me. I lifted up my hand and felt my face, it was already swelling, and my lip and nose were bleeding.

"Guards," my father said coldly. "Take Faramir to his room, once there give him ten lashes." He then shifted his gaze back to me. "That should teach him his lesson."

I was drug to my room, and lashed. Though the pain was terrible, the shame was far worse. I had finally done it. I had completely severed any hope I ever had of any sort of relationship with my father. He hated me! I was worse than a traitor in his eyes. I felt my heart should break from the pain of being rejected and hated by the one person whom I most wanted to love me. And what's worse, I now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, not only would he not accept Aragorn, he would most likely kill him should he enter Minas Tirith.

After the lashings I some how managed to climb onto my bed before I passed out from exhaustion and pain.

I awoke some hours later, warm and thirsty. I opened my weary eyes and was greeted by a familiar friendly face.

"Beregond! What are you doing here?" I asked hoarsely.

He gave me a warm smile and handed me a cup of water. I nodded my thanks and he started to explain why he was in my room.

"My Lord Faramir, I was told by Forvorin, the guard who carried you to your room, what Denethor intended to do to you. I came as fast as I could, but I was to late. The guard had already carried out the terrible act. I found you unconscious on the bed, with a lot of loss blood. I cleaned and bandaged your wounds, and changed your bed sheets. I am truly sorry if I have overstepped, I should not have come in your room uninvited, but I could not allow them to beat you for no reason!" He looked at me with great fear in his eyes. I closed my eyes and leaned back into my bed.

"You have my deepest thanks, Bergond. Were it not for you I probably would have an infected back, if I hadn't bled out." I opened my eyes and looked at my friend. "Beregond, you should never fear to enter my room. You are welcome at any time." I closed my eyes again and I felt a tear slip down my face. "Though, I fear the punishment had just cause. I should not have so deceived my brother and father." I opened my eyes and looked at Beregond worriedly. "Does Boromir hate me now? Do you think he will ever forgive me for such a terrible deception?"

"Forgive you my lord? He never begrudged you! He cried for you when he read the letter. He feared you would die in his place. He never wished you ill; indeed, he has complete faith in your foresight. He believed he really would have died. He just hoped you wouldn't. He tried to explain to Denethor but he wouldn't hear any of it, he even forbade Boromir to see him! Boromir would have been the first to greet you upon your reentry into Minas Tirith, were he not protecting Osgilith." At this point he paused and looked at me for a moment.

"Is it true my Lord?" He asked me hesitantly. I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. "Have you truly seen the King?"

I felt a smile over take my sore face. "Yes, I have seen the King."

"What is he like?" Beregond looked like a child who was hearing the tale of how Isildurs killed Sauron for the first time, so enraptured was he about what the king would be like.

"He is far greater than any could imagine. In looks, he is somewhat like me, but a little older, and far grander and kinglier. Proud and grave with an air of high nobility such as incalculable and remote: one of the Kings of Men born into a later time, but touched with the wisdom and sadness of the Elder Race. He is a king that men will follow, that I would follow, even into the very fires of Mordor. Though I have known him for but a little time, he is very dear to me. When I look upon Aragorn I truly believe there is hope for our people and our future."

"Is he really coming?" Beregond asked in awe.

"Yes, yes he is, and he comes bearing the sword that was broken. He truly is Isildurs heir."

"I am sorry my Lord." Beregond said as he rose from his seat. "I have kept you awake when you should be resting. Those wounds were most severe. I shall now take my leave, do not hesitate to call me should you require my aid." With those words he bowed and then left my room.

With Beregond leave I was left with naught do but think. I could not have been injured at a worse time. Gandalf believed that Sauron would strike at Gondor immediately because of the tremendous loss of Saurman during the battle of Helm's Deep. Should Mordor attack Minas Tirith, I shall be needed. However, my worry for the upcoming battle is the least of my troubles.

I believe my father is going mad.


	28. The Return of the Captain

**March 10, 3019:**

I awoke this morning feeling much refreshed. However, I also awoke to the painful discovery of my back, I can not move it at all without feeling as though I have been overtaken by fire. I would write more but I have not the time, father has summoned me.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I have barely a moment to write, but write I must. My brother has returned!!! Never have I felt so overjoyed as when I heard he was coming upon the white city.

He was at the gates when I first heard the call. I ran to greet him in my joy. He arrived with the armys of Lossarnach, Dervorin, Ringlo Vale, Duinhir, and my dear uncle, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. However when I looked at him I noticed that he was not happy, indeed, he looked livid! I did not make myself known to him then as he enter the city, so great was my fear of rejection. I know what Beregond said, but what if he was mad? I should rather die than have my brother angered at me.

So I waited to speak to my dearest brother till we were in our fathers presences. I made it seem as though I was unaware of the fact that he had reentered the city. Father greeted Boromir with a kiss and had him immediately seated at the table to feast.

"Father, I can not feast." My brother insisted.

"Of course you can, you have ridden long and hard, come, eat!"

"Father, do you not understand?" My brother nearly yelled at our father. I have only seen my brother so angry at my father once. When he discovered that my father had beaten me because I had overslept for an important meeting. "Perhaps you did not receive the news, Osgilliath has been overrun, and the enemy is coming to Minas Tirith! They shall be here by tomorrow eve! We must tend to the cities defenses!" He took a breath and glared at my father passionately. Looking at the ferocity of my brother's face I could not help but be glad that he was not my enemy. "I shall take my leave of you father. I need to prepare for war." He said his last words so coldly that I thought the chill of them should freeze my father. Truly I had never seen my brother so mad.

"Faramir!" my brother called as he left the hall. "Come with me, we have much to discuss." He still sounded quite mad. I turned my head to look at my father as I followed my brother. He gave me a glare, as if to blame my brothers anger on me.

By the time I step out of the hall I have lost my brother. He simply had disappeared I looked around and continued onto the next room, and was thrust against the wall.

"Brother!" Boromir cried out as he enveloped me in a bear hug. My back exploded in pain from being pushed against the wall and I involuntarily gasped. Luckily my brother merely took it as surprise.

I took a breath and managed to respond to my dear brother. "You are not mad with me?"

He pulled back and looked at me curiously. "Mad? Why would I be mad? It was not you who let our defenses slide. Indeed, the blame lies with me and father."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "The defenses?" I mumbled stupidly.

"Yes, the defenses, you warned us about the upcoming army, and we did not heed it. I was sent of to defend Osgilliath, when I should have been preparing this city for war. No my brother, I am not mad at you, but surely you are mad at me."

I could not leave out the bewilderment in my voice as I spoke. "You tried to protect the city Boromir, that is all you could do. But that is not what I wished to know. Are you not mad that I left for Rivendell in your place?"

Boromir tilted his head and stared at me. "Why ever should I be mad? I know what you saw to be true. I merely wish you had not sneaked into my room in the middle of the night like a thief and instead had told me in person." His face was now enveloped with a grin and I felt my own face become overwhelmed by one. I couldn't believe it; I had not forfeited the love of the one I held most dear.

"Come now my brother," Boromir said as he put his arm around my shoulder. "We have much to discuss, and no time with which to discuss it."

We went to his room and sat down. I felt that I was the one who owed an explanation so I told my tale first. I started with the moment I made my disciion to leave Minas Tirtih. I told how I left the city. Of the months of traveling it took me to reach Rivendel. I then reached the council. I had decided I would leave out mention of the Ring, not for lack of trust, but for lack of permission, I believed Gandalf would not let me tell of so sacred a mission.

But Boromir knew of the ring.

"How come the council decided to destroy such a Ring?" Boromir asked me. "Surely it would have been wiser to use the Ring against Mordor. Gondor could certainly use any aid."

"Because none, not even Gandalf could wield so great and evil a Ring. It serves Sauron alone, it has no other master. How did you come by knowledge of this Ring my brother?"

"Because, I had in my keeping its bearer." He answered simply.

_An: he-he, I couldn't resist :)_


	29. The Call of the Ring

_A/N:Okay, you will finally find out about Frodo and Sam.  
_

"What! You've seen Frodo?! Is he well? Where is he now? Does he still have the Ring? Is Sam with him? Is he headed for Mordor?" I cried out in a shocked voice.

"Brother," Boromir laughed out. "Should I answer your questions one at a time or attempt to answer them in the same manner you asked them?" He smiled playfully at me.

I could not find it in myself to reply with any other words. I simply was in shock. My brother had seen Frodo!

"I take that as one at a time. Very well, yes I have seen Frodo Baggins, the hobbit from the shire. He is quite well; well, as well as one can be in his situation. He should be headed towards Cirith Ungol, to climb the hidden stairs. He is still in possession of the ring. Sam, and a strange creature named Gollum, are accompanying him. And as I have already mentioned, he is headed for Mordor. Does that answer your questions? Or would you like a more in depth explanation?"

"But how came you upon him my brother!" I exclaimed. I do believe I was still in shock, Frodo and Sam were alive!

"Tis a long tale my brother. And one that I am not entirely proud of. None the less, it is one that you shall hear in full.

'On March 7 my men and I were camping outside of the Harad Road. At around one we were cooking some coneys over a fire when some of my men came to camp bearing three strange creatures. Two were, what we later learned, hobbits, and the third was Gollum. They refused to tell us what there business was so we bound them and carried us with them, intending to interrogate them later.

We ambushed the Haradrim later that day, killing a few hundred of there soldiers. We continued to Hennuth Annun, with our prisoners in tow, and spent the night in that cave. Upon arriving at the cave, the creature Gollum attempted to escape, but we detained him. I took the two hobbits, as I trusted them more to give me the truth, into a separate room and questioned them.

'They told me that they had set out from Rivendell with seven companions. One they had lost in Moria. Two were his kin, a Dwarf there was also. And an Elf and two Men. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Faramir of Gondor.

'You can imagine my surprise at hearing your name mentioned. I instantly deduced that they had come from the council that you went to.

'I informed them that I was your brother, and quizzed them on some minor details of you, all of which they answered correctly.

'At this point I inquired to the purpose of there mission, and I was told they were to destroy an object of immense power, and evil. The one Ring of Sauron.

'I withdrew myself from the chamber. I am ashamed to admit it, but I wanted that Ring. The desire for it became less when I left the room, but I still desired it. I summoned Anborn, Damrod, and Mablung, seeing as they were your men, I believed it only fair that they take part in my decision. We discussed the pros and cons for man hours, and finally came upon the only real solution. We must let them go. I did not trust myself with the ring so I had Damrod tell Frodo the news. We would send them off tomorrow, with provisions."

My brother stopped his tale and bowed his head before continuing in a quite voice. "That night I could find no rest. I could hear the Ring calling to me. I could not fight its summon." He stopped and looked at me with sorrowful eyes. "I went to Frodo, intending to steal the Ring my brother. Had he not cried out in fright when I went for it, I fear I would have stolen it. His cry awoke Damrod and he ran to the room to see what the matter was. Upon seeing me groping around Frodo's neck for the Ring, he subdued me and forced me from the room.

He questioned me on my actions and I was ashamed. I had Damrod wake Anborn and had the two of them prepare the Hobbits provisions for their journey. While they prepared the provisions I had Mablung ready the Hobbits for the journey. After an hour or so, everything was ready. And without further ado I sent the Hobbits onto Mordor that very night." My brother closed his eyes and whispered the last words. "I was not strong enough to resist its lure. I shudder to think what might have happened had Damrod not came."

"My brother, you did what most all men do when they see the Ring. The Ring was focusing all its power on calling you. Tis a truly, truly evil thing. It knew you had the power to save it from destruction." I leaned forward and laid my hand on my brother's shoulder. "You are not the only one to hear its voice in your head Boromir. I spent far longer in its presence, and I can still hear its call at night. I fear I should not have survived had it used _all_ its powers against me."

I then leaped up at a sudden thought. "Where is my head?!" I cried, "Come Brother, we must tell Gandalf! You have seen Frodo; he shall be most overjoyed by such tidings!" I then dragged Boromir with me to the Wizard.


	30. More Than Worthy

"Alive?!" Pippin exclaimed upon hearing the news. "Frodo's alive!" The young Hobbit jumped off the bed he had been sitting on and gave my brother a hug.

We had found both Gandalf and Pippin in Pippin's room. Boromir had just finished telling Gandalf his tale.

"Indeed, young master Pippin, I saw him not two days ago." Boromir said while gently patting the Hobbits back. I turned my gaze onto Gandalf, who was being unusually quite.

"Mithrandir?" I gently questioned, for he looked rather pale.

"Umph." He grunted in acknowledgment of my question. He then took a puff from the pipe he'd been smoking. "Where did you say they were headed Boromir?" Gandalf asked slowly.

Boromir gave Gandalf a long knowing look. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, where had he said they were going?

"To the hidden Stairs of Cirith Ungol." He set Pippin down and leaned towards Gandalf. "Mithrandir, they do not know into what they are heading. The creature did not inform them of what lies at the top of the stairs."

The Stairs of Cirith Ungol. Long have I heard tales of what lies at the end of that evil path It is rumored that an evil from the days of Morgoth still dwells there.

"Cirith Ungol? Are you certain Boromir? Yes, I see it in your eyes." He took a deep breath. "This does not bode well for us or Frodo. None the less, nothing can be done about it now."

Gandalf stood up and turned to look out the window. The sun had long since set, and it was getting quite late.

"Faramir," Gandalf said quietly. "You need to get some rest I think tomorrow shall prove to be quite trying." He turned around and stared at me with knowing eyes. How did he know I had been whipped? "Boromir, why don't you accompany him to his room. I believe you two still have much to discuss."

Boromir gave me an inquisitive stare. "I am sure we do, he still owes me an explanation of what all you have been doing."

Once we arrived at my room Boromir gently sat me down on the bed.

"What happened brother? Tell me the full tale of your travels now. I wish to know everything."

"Tis a long tale my brother. But it is one you deserve to hear." So I began to tell my tale again. Boromir listened to the entire tale eagerly. When I reached our arrival at Rohan I hesitated before continuing. Should I mention Eowyn?

"Go on Faramir, what happened next?" Boromir prompted me.

I took a breath and continued. "Saruman had possessed Theoden, Gandalf used his staff and threw Saruman out of him. Then Theoden transformed before my very eyes. He lost years of his face, his wrinkles melted, and his hair lost its white and grey and gained a golden hue."

Boromir gave a suspicious look. "What of Eomer, did you meet him again? Mayhap you also met his sister?"

I felt my face grow warm. How on earth had he guessed so quickly?! "Yes, yes I did." I mumbled.

"And..." Boromir asked with a positively evil grin.

"She is beautiful beyond thought. Her hair looks to be made of spun gold. Her skin is as pale and soft as a lily's petal. Her eyes are as grey as the sky before a storm. And her spirit, so willful a creature I have never met."

"Indeed? It sounds as though you are quite smitten."

"No. I merely recognizes beauty when I see it."

"Whatever you say my brother."

I continued my tale without any more interruptions. I finished my tale with our arrival to Gondor.

Boromir stared at me for a moment and then spoke, "Faramir, you have not finished your tale. What happened once you met father?" His voice was quite and commanding.

"We told him a brief summary of our tale, and urged him to quickly prepare for war. He mocked us saying he saw far more than we were aware of. Gandalf left the hall in a rage, and I made to follow him but was called back. Father confronted me about Aragorn. He called me a traitor and hit me. He then called the guards and had me whipped." I finished the tale in a mere whisper as I fought against the tears filling my eyes. My eyes were so blurry with my unshed tears that I did not see brother rise. A moment later I felt an arm around my shoulder.

"He did what, my Brother?" Boromir whispered in my ear. At the sound of his voice my control broke and I began to weep.

"Why does he do it Boromir?" I cried, "Why can he not love me? Why can I not earn it? Am I so unworthy to be his son?" Boromir did not reply and simply pulled me into an embrace. He held me close until my tears subsided.

"Not worthy?" He said as he leaned back and looked me in the face. "Father is not worthy of your love." I lifted my eyes and looked at my brother. He looked livid. Truly, I had never seen him look so angry. He was breathing heavily and I knew in an instant what he was thinking.

"Boromir, I pray you don't do any thing hasty. Remember what happened last time you confronted him after he beat me? He accused me of tricking you and beat me again. Don't do anything Boromir, please!"

Boromir leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He took a few deep breathes and seemed to calm down some. "Very well Faramir. I shall not say any thing, right now." He then opened his eyes and looked at me. "But should he touch you again I shall remind him of just how good a fighter I am." His eyes were distant as he spoke, and I feared he would hurt Denethor should he hit me again.

"Thank you." I murmured quietly.

"Sleep now my Brother, I fear you need the rest." Boromir stood and embraced me before he left my room.

_A/N: I am so sorry it's been so long since I have updated! My son got a nasty virus on the computer and its taken me forever to get rid of it!_


	31. Remember

_A/N: I am going to try to finish this story by the end of February. I should have about ten to fifteen chapters left. Would y'all be interested in my continuing this story with the characters life after the book?  
_

**March 11, 3019:**

Father summoned me this morning.

He wishes me to try and reclaim Osgiliath.

I told him it was sheer folly to try and reclaim it. I tried to tell him that Osgiliath is completely overrun, but he would not listen. He told me to gather my gear and my men and we shall head to Osgiliath this morning.

It would not be so evil a fate would that I need not bring my men. I value their lives far more than my own, and would far rather die than take them on this suicidal mission.

Yet I can not disobey my father.

So what is left of my men, and I shall head to Osgiliath.

{}-{}-{}-{}

Valar protect us! Boromir has come!

I do not think I can even begin to describe the incredible anguish this discovery has caused me!

We ride to a battle that we cannot win, and now, now the one person I love most in this world is also headed to certain death. He is the main reason I agreed to leave Minas Tirith. I hoped that attempting to reclaim Osgiliath would help gain Minas Tirith, and Boromir, some very much needed time. I had hoped that he would help prepare our ill equipped and unsuspecting army. Who will lead Gondor against Mordor in his abscenses? I do not believe that Aragorn can make it in time. Will Mithrandir lead them?

I begin to wish, to wish I had never gone on this forsaken mission, to wish that I had never gone to Rivendell.

For what hope have we of every returning? Why save my brothers life only to have him killed now?

{}-{}-{}-{}

We set up a camp in Osgiliath at the crossing of the fords. We managed to reclaim it after a very intense and bloody fight. We now lay in waiting, for tomorrow we attack.

As I sit in this ruined town I remembered the last time despair threatened to overwhelm me.

I find myself, surprisingly, smiling at the memory of Merry. How I miss their cheerful smiles, their steadfast devotion, and their gentle spirits. I truly believe that both Boromir (if I had not intervened) and I should have unhesitatingly died to preserve their precious lives.

I must remind myself, they are what I am fighting for. The hope that they can once again live free from the malice of Sauron. I am fighting for them, them and all the free peoples of Middle Earth. I am fighting for nothing less than freedom.

My mind starts to drift over all whom I have met on this journey.

I remember the unending council and all who participated in it. The utter disbelief that so many races could come peacefully under one roof, and all work together to reach a common goal.

I remember the moment I was chosen for the fellowship. The utter awed at the brilliance of my companions, and the curiosity as to why I should be chosen for so great a task.

I remember the joy of learning the members of the fellowship more personally. The joy of knowing I was part of saving Middle Earth.

I remember the shock of seeing Gandalf fall into the pit. The feeling of gut wrenching certainty that he was dead.

I remember the beauty and serenity of Lothlorien, and the peace I found after talking with my King, Aragorn.

I remember the horror at the loss of Frodo. The shock of being in the field where I saw my brother die.

I remember the determination not to let Merry and Pippin die by the Urak-hai. The pleasant surprise at finding a friend in Eomer.

I remember the glorious moment when I saw Gandalf alive, the shock I could not describe.

I remember the wonder of Gandalf banishing Saruman. The joy of first beholding Eowyn.

I remember the struggles of the battle of Helm Deeps. The thrill of seeing the reinforcements.

I remember the fear of heading for Isengard. The glee at finding Merry and Pippin alive and unharmed. The awe at seeing Gandalf break Saruman's staff.

I remember the fear for Pippin that cold night. The endless ride to Gondor.

I remember the hatred of my father, and the love of my friend and brother.

Never have gone to Rivendell? No, not for a thousand lives would I now trade what I have gained on this journey.

**March 12, 3019:**

The crossings at Osgiliath have been captured. We have retreated to the Causeway Forts. It must be held if we are to have any hope of victory. Though I admit, I do not foresee victory for us.

I must say, I am glad that Boromir is here. He is a brilliant soldier, and can lead to battle like no one else. He is a brilliant strategist, and had saved many of my men's lives.

Perhaps we may make it back to Gonder alive after all.


	32. And So It Begins

_A/N: You'll find out more about what Denethor's going to do in a later chapter..._

**March 13, 3019:**

I must gather my strength and make a record of what has passed.

Early this morning the Lord of the Nazgul breached the Rammas Echor. We fought hard, but the army of Mordor regained the Causeway Forts. We retreated across Peleannor Fields. Boromir led the retreat, knocking back any who stood in our way, and I held the rearguard.

Upon nearing the gates of Minas Tirith we were attacked by flying Nazgul. I feared that all was lost, but Mithrandir came to our rescue.

He rode out from the city with his staff raised high. He sent forth the light of Varda from his staff, and the Nazgul shrank away from it in fear.

We barely made it back to the city. But our return is no cause for joy. We now have to assess, and take care of all our injuries.

I have lost two thirds of my men, and the rest have all been wounded. Even myself and Boromir.

Boromir suffered two arrow wounds, and several sword wounds. Though one would never know it from looking at him. He does not show any sign of pains!

Aside from my back, I also suffered an arrow wound, and several sword wounds, though not as severe as Boromir's.

Oddly, our father has not come down to see us. I am not surprised at his ignoring us; no it is the fact that he is ignoring Boromir that surprises me.

Alas, I can write no more now, my heart is too heavy with the loss of so many of my men.

{}-{}-{}-{}

Sweet Valar! I have just seen Pelennor Fields! There must be an army of at least a 100 thousand out there! Mordor has surely aimed all it forces at us! What chances have we of victory? How I wish Aragorn was here to lead Gondor. We shall have need of our true king in this battle, which would look to be our last. I know with certainty that my father shall be of very little aid.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I was sitting with Gandalf on the balcony outside my room. It overlooks Pelennor fields, and you can see Mount Doom in the distant. Gandalf had been tending to my wounds and we were now enjoying the last rest we would have for a long while. I was looking at the innumerable amount of creatures flooding Pelennor Fields when Gandalf started to cough beside me. Pippin appeared from nowhere and gave him a glass of water. Pippin went up to the rail of the balcony, which was about level with his chin, and looked at the field.

"There are no more stars. Is it time?" He asked quietly.

Gandalf took a sip of his water and sighed. "Yes, yes Pippin, it is time."

"It's so quiet" pippin whispered, as though he feared to break the silence.

I looked out at the dark field. "It is simply the deep breath before the plunge."

"I don't want to be in a battle, but waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse. Is there any hope, Gandalf, for Frodo and Sam?"

Gandalf stood up and walked up beside Pippin. He slowly put his arm around the little Hobbit.

"There never was much hope. Just a fool's hope." He gave Pippin a small smile, but then his face became solemn once more. "Our Enemy is ready. His full strength gathered. Not only Orcs, but Men as well. Legions of Haradrim from the south. Mercenaries from the coast. All will answer Mordor's call. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer-stroke will fall hardest."

Pippin looked up at Gandalf. "But we've got the White Wizard, that's got to count for something." He said it with such simple faith that I was moved by his belief that Gandalf could do anything.

I stood and walked to Pippins other side. "You're right; we do have the White Wizard. Yet we have weapons Sauron does not understand, weapons he fears more than any other."

Gandalf looked at me with an upraised eyebrow.

"What have we go Faramir?" Pippin asked me curiously.

"Each other Pippin, we have each other. I would trust each of you with my life. Do you think any of Sauron's forces have that kind of trust? A trust like that frees one up to fight more boldly, knowing that they have friends looking after them. Do you not feel bolder knowing that you will not be betrayed by the ones you fight beside?

'Also, Sauron fights merely for domination, while we fight for freedom. A man fighting for his family, his friends, his land, his freedom will fight far harder than one who merely fights for the joy of killing." I looked down at Pippin. "Plus, we have a true king on our side. With Aragorn and the White Wizard, I do not see how we can lose."

Pippin gave me a small smile and looked back at Mordor. "Well, at least Frodo and Sam shouldn't have to much trouble making it to Mount Doom. There can't be that many people or Orcs left in Mordor, there all out on Pelennor field!"

I see now what hope we have of Victory.

{}-{}-{}-{}

The Battle for Minas Tirith is about to begin. My Brother and I are on the bottom level, we are defending the gate. I am afraid that I have very poor chances of living through the night. My back is on fire, I do wish that father had not beaten me. Even if I had not been injured during our fight for Osgiliath I should have had a very hard time fighting. But with my injured back, thigh (the arrow wound), and arms (the sword wounds), I shall find it fair near impossible.

I can hear drums in the deep. I do not know when, or if, I shall be able to write again.

The Battle for Middle Earth has begun.

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far! _


	33. The Battle for Middle Earth

_A/N: A thousand thanks to Sapphire Immortal who beta read this chapter for me.  
_

**March 15, 3019:**

I have much to tell. I shall start where I last left off.

We protected the gate well into the night; Minas Tirith was built to with stand the most strenuous of sieges. However, in the early hours of the morning the gate was breached.

Gandalf, who had taken over the cities defenses from my father, led us in the fight against servants of Sauron that poured in from the broken gate. We fought the enemy for hours, but we were slowly driven back. Gandalf ordered us to retreat to the next level, and he sent all the women and children to the highest levels. With fierce determination, we sealed off the gate, and blocked the lower level.

At this point I received the gravest news I have ever heard.

Boromir was lost on the lower level.

Who relayed this message to me, I did not care. My brother would most surely be dead.

My beloved brother, the one I love most in this world, was sealed with the entire army of Mordor.

I surely would have lost my will and reason at these tidings, had it not been for Gandalf. However he brought me to my senses, and told me to fight for the city my brother and I so loved. I took a haggard breath and numbly helped to bar the second levels gate against the attacking army.

As I sealed the gate I let my eyes wander over the city I so loved and had devoted myself too since childhood. She is truly beautiful, even under attack. Yet, I knew in my heart that I would never find joy in wandering her streets ever again. No, from now until I die I shall only remember this night. I would never again walk through the gates with my brother by my side. I would never again hear his gruff laughter. Never again feel him tousle my hair. My mission had failed. Here in Minas Tirith, my whole world had just died.

How could fate be so cruel? I had betrayed my father's trust and stolen away to Rivendell in my brother's place for the sole reason of saving his life. Why had I been allowed to save my brothers life merely for him to lose it now? Despair was nearly so overwhelming that I was distracted from an old familiar voice.

"Faramir!" Gandalf's harsh voice drew back to my senses. The sensation startled me. I turned to him, seeing his weathered face. "Go to the upper level and assist your uncle. He's guarding the wall; you skill with the bow will be of great help." He gave me a hard look and pushed me up the path.

I stumbled blindly up the path I knew so well. A thousand memories came flooding back as I ran up its familiar paths. I could see Boromir leaving for battle the first time; I remembered the terror and pride that had so overwhelmed me. I had always believed Boromir to be invincible; nothing was too hard for him to accomplish. But now, now I should never see him again.

With a heavy heart, I reached the last level and looked for my uncle. He was leading a group of men against a bunch of Orcs who had gotten over the wall. I drew my bow and knocked and arrow with out a thought. I struck three Orcs down as I ran to join my Uncle.

I would not let the white city fall.

I would save it for Boromir, for Aragorn, for all that I love.

I charged at what was left of the orcs with renewed vigor. Once they were finished I went to my uncle, but there were still more to come, ascending the steps, one by one with rapid succession.

He ordered me to defend the wall. I took up a post beside Damrod, one of the few who had made it out of Osgiliath with me.

"Never thought we'd make it out of Osgiliath just to die here, sir." He said quietly as we waited for our enemy. I looked over at him and gave him a small smile. I was relieved to receive it back for some reason. We're both weary – we all are, barely reserving any strength to talk, let alone fight.

Exactly where did our energy come from, I wonder?

"But," he continued. "I can't think of any place I would rather die for. Or person I would rather die with."

I looked out at Pelennor Field. "Indeed my friend, neither can I. Long may we defend this city against the filth of Mordor." I quietly murmured. I tilted my head and looked at Damrod. And suddenly, courage, the thought of valour swelled up within me. Never mind that wretched Nazgul that scoured the skies, I feel strength flowing in me.

"Let us put the fear of the White City in the servants of Sauron! Let them see that this city is ours!"

A resounding cheer from the soldiers echoed through the wall as we renewed our efforts against the enemy of Gondor. Just then, the Orcs arrived, bringing with them their horrific weapons, their bloodthirsty rage hungering for our blood. In my mind, I cannot fathom how they dared to taint Gondor's life.

I took up my bow and slew many more Orcs. Pivoting on one foot, I took one down to his knees, and another about to kill a man – I forgot his name – then finally I drew out a dagger to stab an Orc's disgusting face.

He screamed, his voice echoing in my head before he collapsed to a heap. Still, it mattered little how many I slew, for three or four more Orcs always replaced any I killed. It was then a grim dawn of realization came to me. With these numbers, the sheer amount of the enemy, there were no doubts about it.

We were losing the battle.

That same despair created when I heard Boromir's fate below, wrenched my heart. Then everything changed with the pure, deep sounds of horns heralding from beyond the walls of the white city. I swiveled my head towards that direction, pushing off a bulky brute of an Orc while I was at it.

In the far distance I could see a faint light coming upon the edge of Pelennor fields. I lifted my head and heard a faint voice calling on the wind:

"Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden!

Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!

Spear's shall be shaken,! Shield's shall be splintered!

A sword-day, A red day, Ere the sun rises!

Ride now! Ride now! Ride!

Ride for ruin, and the world's ending! Ride to Gondor!

_Death! _

**_Forth Eorlingas!" _**

With these words I heard that glorified sound again, I realized) that it was of a deep battle horn once again. Before he sound of that one horn faded, it was joined with hundreds of others, creating to combine one, pure magnificent form. Not only that, but the proud voices of thousands was being carried over by the gentle winds. It sounded as though the thunder from the mountain had come to join us, and for that, I was glad.

The light came charging up the field towards Minas Tirith and I finally saw the light for what it was.

The Riders of Rohan had come to our aid. With the charge of Rohan the hosts of

Mordor wailed, and terror took them. They fled, and were killed for it, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. Then all of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, or the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing of all that was fair and terrible came even to the City.

Upon the wall a great change had taken place. We raised our weapons, gave a cry of vigorous glory and redoubled our efforts. No longer did we feel hopeless; no longer did we wait for death.

For now we did not stand alone, and we would not let Minas Tirith fall.


	34. Madness

"Faramir!' A young and frantic voice called my name. I turned my head from the battle and looked to see who had called me. Pippin was running down the wall towards me in a panic, barely gathering his proper footing on the cracked steps.

"Pippin!" I called, trying to fend off a lithe Orc that was very persistent in gutting me. He lunged but I dodged quickly. "Get out of here! This is no place for a hobbit!" Pippin looked up and I was shocked to see his face covered with tears. He ran up beside me and grasped my free hand. The Orc gave a triumphant scream, and I quickly cursed myself for being distracted but the little hobbit pulled out a dagger and stabbed the creature. I should remember that hobbits could be a fierce people.

But he frantically pulled out the weapon, not bothering to wipe it and gripped my hand hard. "Denethor has lost his mind! He's burning Boromir alive!" I stood in shock at the news. Boromir was alive? In the middle of the greatest battle I had ever witnessed I stood with a little hobbit, unable to move. The battle surroundings faded away to the possibility of Pippin's message.

"Faramir!" Pippin's shrill voice forced me back to the present. I gave a shuddering gasp, trying to grasp the reality of things. "He's killing him! Your father has gone mad; he intends to kill both Boromir and himself!" The young hobbit was quite hysterical, and I was beginning to feel the same. He looked up at me and continued tell me what had happened.

I looked at him in the eyes, and saw no deception. Boromir is alive. "Menrung found Boromir's body on the bottom level. He was gravely injured, and barely breathing. He brought the body to the house of healing. Denethor heard about it and went to see him. He says we are all to die, and he will not wait. Denethor has gone to the Tombs, and he has taken Boromir, and they are to make a pyre and burn him on it, and Boromir as well. And he has sent men to fetch wood and oil. And I have told Beregond, but I'm afraid he won't dare to leave his post: he is on guard. And what can he do anyway?" So Pippin poured out his tale like a waterfall. Thankfully I caught every blessed, insane word. "Can't you save him, Faramir?'

'Maybe I can,' I said, clenching hard on the hilt of my sword, "but if I do, then others will die, I fear. Well, I must come, for I will suffer him no harm. But evil and sorrow will come of this. Even in the heart of our stronghold the Enemy has power to strike us: for his will it is that is at work."

I took a step forward and began to stumble after Pippin. I knew that in leaving my post, I would cause there to be a gap in the defense of the wall. But I had no time to tell anyone. Boromir was alive, and my father intended to kill him! What lunacy drove him that far? At most, I would think that fathers would refuse to see that their firstborn are dead instead of burning themselves along with them.

Pippin and I ran across the wall, through soldiers and Orcs. But I didn't see them; my mind was focused entirely on what was happening to my brother. With what extraordinary luck that came by with me when I wrote that fateful letter to my dear brother, it still abides my living. I must not fail.

We passed on; and as we climbed and drew near to the Citadel I could feel the wind blowing on my face, and I caught the glimmer of morning far away, a light growing in the southern sky. But it brought little hope to me, knowing what evil lay before us, fearing I would come too late.

At the gate of the Citadel we found no guard.

"Then Beregond has gone," said Pippin more hopefully, eager to get to the gate. We turned away and hastened along the road to the Closed Door. It stood wide open, and the porter lay before it. He was slain and his key had been taken.

"Who's evil deed was this?!" I cried. Fury rose in my mind, unable to comprehend who would execute such a thing at a time like this. "Sauron loves such deeds: friend at war with friend; loyalty divided in confusion of hearts."

We passed the Door and walked on down the steep winding road. Light was growing, and the tall columns and carven figures beside the way went slowly by like grey ghosts. It seems as if they glowered over me, watching with ever still eyes. The effect increased for the little child-like friend, but he paid no heed to them, and tugged harshly at my hand. What made me hesitate, even for the prevention of my brother?

Suddenly the uneasy silence that had lain on the road was broken, and we heard somewhere below us cries and the ringing of swords: such sounds as I had not heard in the hallowed place, and had not been heard since the building of the City. At long last we came to Rath Dínen and hastened towards the House of the Stewards, looming in the twilight under its great dome.

"Stay! Stay!" I cried, springing forward to the stone stair before the door. My sword was in hand; ready to attack anyone who dares stop me. "Stay this evil madness!"

For there were the servants of Denethor with swords and torches in their hands; but alone in the porch upon the topmost step stood Beregond, clad in the black and silver of the Guard; and he held the door against them. Two of them had already fallen to his sword, staining the hallows with their blood; and the others cursed him, calling him outlaw and traitor to his master.

Even as I ran forward, we heard from within the house of the dead the voice of Denethor crying: "Haste, haste! Do as I have bidden! Slay me this renegade! Or must I do so myself?" Thereupon the door which Beregond held shut with his left hand was wrenched open, and there behind him stood the Lord of the City, tall and wild; a light like flame was in his eyes, and he held a drawn sword.

But I sprang up the steps, and the men fell back from me in fright. I strode towards my father and lifted up my own sword, and in one stroke, I knocked my father's sword out of his grasp and it fell behind him in the shadows of the house. Father stepped backward and looked as one amazed. Frankly, I should be the one amazed. Of all people, my father would burn Boromir when he has a glimmer of a living spark in him?

"What is this, my lord?" I questioned, nearly begging and accusing at the same time. The rebellious tone in my voice surprised me and I suppressed it. I cannot risk the anger of my father if he refuses to tell where Boromir is. "The houses of the dead are no places for the living. And why do men fight here in the Hallows when there is war enough before the Gate? Or has our Enemy come even to Rath Dínen?"

"Since when has the Lord of Gondor been answerable to his son?" sneered Denethor arrogantly. I hesitated, years of servitude before that oppressive father of mine flowed into my mind. "Or may I not command my own servants?"

"You may, my Lord," I answered humbly as always. "But others may contest your will, when it is turned to madness and evil. Where is my brother, Boromir?" I looked at him, pleading for the love of him.

"He lies within," shrugged Denethor, nearly cackling – or weeping, I cannot know. His voice was indescribable but I should hope it is the latter – with the madness that showed, "burning, already burning. They have set a fire in his flesh. But soon all shall be burned. The West has failed. It shall all go up in a great fire, and all shall be ended. Ash! Ash and smoke blown away on the wind!" He lifted his arms, as if expecting a grand embrace of light, showering him with blessings.

"No!" Pippin roared in defiance, getting his dagger out but I stopped him. My father had truly gone mad. I gave a glance towards the hobbit, but then stared at my lord, wondering what great, wicked thing could have befallen him. I was in great fear that he had already done an irrevocable evil deed and I ran forward, with a breathless Beregond and Pippin behind me.

I found my brother, dreaming in his fever, lying upon a table. Wood was piled under it, and high about it, and all of it was drenched with oil, even Boromir's garments. Sheathing my sword, I leaped atop the table and lifted my brother with strength I did not know I possessed. I leapt down from the table and carried my brother towards the door, and as I did so Boromir cried out my and our father's name in his dream.

Father started as one waking from a trance, and the flame died in his eyes, and he wept; and said: "Do not take my son from me! He calls for me!"

"He calls for us Father." I said as calmly as I can, but how can one's nerves be cool at a time like this? "But we cannot come to him yet. For he must seek healing on the threshold of death, and maybe find it not. Whereas our part is to go out to the battle of our City, where maybe death awaits us. This you know in your heart Father."

"He will not wake again," wept Denethor resentfully. "Battle is vain. Why should we wish to live longer? Why should we not go to death side by side my son?"

"Authority is not given to us, Father, to order the hour of our death,' I answered simply. Could my father not see the insanity of his reasoning? "Only the heathen kings, under the domination of the Dark Power, did thus, slaying themselves in pride and despair, murdering their kin to ease their own death." I then passed through the door, carrying Boromir with me from the house of the dead. and laid him on the bier on which he had been brought, and which had now been set in the porch. Father followed me, and stood trembling, looking with longing on the face of Boromir. And for a moment, while we all were silent and still, watching the Lord in his throes, he wavered.


	35. Fires

"Come Father! We are needed. There is much that you can yet do." I shouted hurriedly, wondering why I did, but then realized that possibly even the sound of my voice – or anyone else's for that matter – would penetrate his skull.

Then suddenly Denethor laughed. He stood up tall and proud again, stepping swiftly back to the table he lifted from it the pillow on which his head had lain. Then coming to the doorway he drew aside the covering, and he had between his hands a palantír. Images of the pain and terror on Pippin's face during his battle with the palantír came flooding back to my memory when I saw its shining surface. As he held it up, it seemed the globe began to glow with an inner flame, so that the lean face of my Father appeared to be lit with a red fire, and his face was as hard as stone, sharp with black shadows, noble, proud, and terrible. His eyes glittered with a dark madness.

"Pride and despair!" He cried out. '"Didst thou think that the eyes of the White Tower were blind? Nay, I have seen more than thou knowest, Wizards Pupil. For thy hope is but ignorance. Go then and labour in healing! Go forth and fight! Vanity, for a little space you may triumph on the field, for a day. But against the Power that now arises there is no victory. To this City only the first finger of its hand has yet been stretched. All the East is moving. And even now the wind of thy hope cheats thee and wafts up Anduin a fleet with black sails. The West has failed. It is time for all to depart who would not be slaves."

"Such counsels will make the Enemy's victory certain indeed," I stated, glancing at the palantír, trying to make a faint connection between my father and itself. What he speaks cannot be from his right of mind. I truly hope that.

"Hope on then!" laughed Denethor crazily, as if read my mind. I sensed Beregond and Pippin's shocked gazes at me, but I cannot look at them. Whatever seems to put my father in such a lunatic state may already bound me, forcing me to stare at him. "Do I not know thee, Faramir? Thy hope is to rule in my stead, to stand behind every throne, north, south, or west. I have read thy mind and its policies. Do I not know that you commanded this halfling here to keep silence? That you brought him hither to be a spy within my very chamber? And yet in our speech together I have learned the names and purpose of all thy companions. So! With the left hand thou wouldst use me for a little while as a shield against Mordor, and with the right bring up this Ranger of the North to supplant me, whilst taking my place as Steward!"

"No he did not!" Pippin's brave voice sounded in my head, and I was thankful for him, defending in my stead. But couldn't I defend myself as well? Beregond, I noticed, kept silent, trying to pace his breathing from fighting my father's servants.

Yet father did not listen to the hobbit. "But I say to thee, Faramir, I will not allow it! I am Steward of the House of Anárion. I will not step down to be the dotard chamberlain of an upstart. Even were his claim proved to me, still he comes but of the line of Isildur. I will not bow to such a one, last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship and dignity."

"What then would you have," I asked sadly, "if your will could have its way?" How could he not see what is happening, and hear what he is saying?

"I would have things as they were in all the days of my life," answered Denethor, looking above the horizons of the glowering clouds like he could see the future of Gondor in a splendorous age. "And in the days of my longfathers (?) before me: to be the Lord of this City in peace, and leave my chair to my son after me, who would be his own master and no wizard's pupil. But if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught: neither life diminished, nor love halved, nor honour abated."

'To me it would not seem that a Steward who faithfully surrenders his charge is diminished in love or in honour," I said, very hurt by his statement. I could not see a trace of sanity left in the man that I love for the sake of love, no matter how he whipped or trampled me in my younger years. "And at the least you shall not rob your son, my brother, of his choice while his death is still in doubt." As if to support my words, Boromir seems to stir a little.

At those words Denethor's eyes flamed again, and taking the Stone under his arm he drew a knife and strode towards the bier. But Beregond sprang forward and set himself before me. "My lord!" He shouted in alarm, his sword in hand. I could only think of how shocked I am with my father's actions. "Stay your hand! Please!"

'So!' cried Denethor in anger. 'Thou hadst already stolen my son's love. Now thou stealest the hearts of my knights also, so that they rob me wholly of my son at the last. But in this at least thou shalt not defy my will: to rule my own end." Beregond shook his head, trying to speak – I too – but then Pippin came next to Beregond, with his sharp blade too. How grateful am I for them, but I should take my stand also, even if it is against my father. But my father's tongue was even quicker than the fingers of my hand that went for my sword.

"Come hither!" he cried to his servants. "Come, if you are not all recreant!" Then two of them ran up the steps to him. Beregond immediately went to action, battling two of them. Pippin joined in, shouting. Swiftly he snatched a torch from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before I could hinder him he thrust the brand amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame.

Then Denethor leaped upon the table, and standing there wreathed in fire and smoke he took up the staff of his stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it on his knee. Casting the pieces into the blaze he bowed and laid himself on the table, clasping the palantír with both hands upon his breast.

In grief and horror I ran for my father, finally free out of my invisible bondage. The flames greedily consuming the wood leapt at me and caught my tunic. I reached for my father despite the blazing fires, but I was too late. My father was in flames and already burning. Beregond, with a yell, grabbed me by my waist and pulled me away from the flames. Pippin patted out the flames that had covered my tunic, and my right arm. The knight cast his cloak around me as I fell to my knees. I covered my face and Beregond closed the door. For a while I wept there, upon the silent threshold, while those outside heard the greedy roaring of the fire within. And then Denethor gave a great cry, and afterwards spoke no more.

"So passes Denethor, son of Ecthelion," Beregond whispered in amazement and horror, and I felt more tears fall down my face as I stood. Could I not save both my father and brother, but cruel fate left me with only one choice?


	36. To the House of Healing

_A/N: A thousand thanks to Sapphire Immortal who beta read these chapter for me.  
_

I turned and addressed Beregond and Denethor servants that stood there aghast. "And so pass also the days of Gondor that we have known; for good or evil they are ended. Ill deeds have been done here; but let now all enmity that lies between you be put away, for it was contrived by the Enemy and works his will. You have been caught in a net of warring duties that you did not weave. But think, you servants of the Lord, blind in your obedience, that but for the treason of Beregond, Boromir, Captain of the White Tower, would now also be burned." I was satisfied with their stiffening from their shame.

"Bear away from this unhappy place our comrades who have fallen. And we will bear Boromir, Steward of Gondor, to a place where he can sleep in peace."

Then we took up the bier bore it away towards the Houses of Healing, while behind us walked Pippin with his head downcast. I made no attempt to speak with him, but placed a hand on his shoulders. He looked at me, and I gave a thankful look. To my relief, he accepted it, understanding the message.

At length we came back to the Steward's Door, and Beregond looked with grief at the porter. "This deed I shall ever rue," he said with a grieved sigh; "but a madness of haste was on me, and he would not listen, but drew sword against me." Then taking the key that he had wrested from the slain man he closed the door and locked it. "This should now be given to the Lord Boromir." He said, heavy hearted.

"I suppose I am in command in the absence of the Lord,' I said. Yet in my heart, it seems that after my father's ordeal, I do not want that position. 'I bid you keep the key and guard it, until the City is set in order again."

Now at last we passed into the high circles of the City, and in the light of morning we went towards the Houses of Healing; these were fair houses set apart, for the care of those who were grievously sick, but now they were prepared for the tending of men hurt in battle or dying. They stood not far from the Citadel-gate, in the sixth circle, nigh to its southward wall, and about them was a garden and a greensward with trees, the only such place in the City. There dwelt the few women that had been permitted to remain in Minas Tirith, since they were skilled in healing or in the service of the healers.

But even as we came carrying the bier to the main door of the Houses, we heard a great cry that went up from the field before the Gate and rising shrill and piercing into the sky passed, and died away on the wind. So terrible was the cry that for a moment we all stood still, and yet when it had passed, suddenly our hearts were lifted up in such a hope as I had not known since the darkness came out of the East; and it seemed to me that the light grew clear and the sun broke through the clouds.

I, Beregond and Pippin took Boromir into the Houses of Healing. We left my brother to the cares of the head healer and went back up to the battle.

We found Gandalf waiting outside the House of Healing, we looked at him, and for a while he was silent. At last he spoke. "My friends,' he said, 'and all you people of this city and of the Western lands! Things of great sorrow and renown have come to pass. Shall we weep or be glad? Beyond hope the Captain of our foes has been destroyed, and you have heard the echo of his last despair. But he has not gone without woe and bitter loss. So long has the reach of our Enemy become! Alas! but now I perceive how his will was able to enter into the very heart of the City.

'Though the Stewards deemed that it was a secret kept only by themselves, long ago I guessed that here in the White Tower, one at least of the Seven Seeing Stones was preserved. In the days of his wisdom Denethor did not presume to use it, nor to challenge Sauron, knowing the limits of his own strength. But his wisdom failed; and I fear that as the peril of his realm grew he looked in the Stone and was deceived: far too often, I guess, since you departed for Rivendell Faramir. He was too great to be subdued to the will of the Dark Power; he saw nonetheless only those things, which that Power permitted him to see. The knowledge which he obtained was, doubtless, often of service to him; yet the vision of the great might of Mordor that was shown to him fed the despair of his heart until it overthrew his mind.'

So it was that accursed orb. How I rue the fact that I didn't snatch it from my poor father's hands and smashed it should I have that knowledge already. "Now I understand what seemed so strange to me!" said Pippin shuddering at his memories as he spoke. "The Lord went away from the room where Boromir lay; and it was only when he returned that I first thought he was changed, old and broken."

"It was in the very hour that Boromir was brought to the Tower that many of us saw a strange light in the topmost chamber," said Beregond, swallowing and cleared his throat. I realized how thirsty I was then. So did Pippin, but he did not make a peep. "But we have seen that light before, and it has long been rumored in the City, that the Lord would at times wrestle in thought with his Enemy."

"Alas! Then I have guessed rightly," said Gandalf, but he did not enjoy his confirmed suspicions. "Thus the will of Sauron entered into Minas Tirith; and thus I have been delayed here. And here I shall still be forced to remain, for I shall soon have other charges, not Boromir only.'

"Now I must go down to meet those who come. I have seen a sight upon the field that is very grievous to my heart, and greater sorrow may yet come to pass. Come with me, Pippin! But you, Beregond, should return to the Citadel and tell the chief of the Guard there what has befallen. It will be his duty, I fear, to withdraw you from the Guard; but say to him that, if I may give him counsel, you should be sent to the Houses of Healing, to be the guard and servant of your captain, and to be at his side when he awakes. You, Faramir, shall await by his side also, for by you he was saved from the fire. Go now! I shall return soon."

With that he turned away and Pippin followed him down towards the lower city. And even as they hastened on their way the wind brought a grey rain, and all the fires sank, and there arose a great smoke before them. I gave one last look at Beregond, who saluted to me. I returned it, giving a respectful bow before going to him to await my brother's awakening.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I went into the house of healing and numbly waited by my brother's side. Beregond took two chairs and gave one to me to sit. I accept it graciously. While I sat there, Nestedrin, the warden of the House of Healing came to me. I frowned, wondering what has happened for him to come to me so quickly.

"My Lord, what madness is this? The injured should not wait on the injured." He cried out upon looking at me. "You too, sir knight!" He added as well and as accusing, turning to Beregond

I lifted my head and looked at the warden. It took me a few moments to realize that he was referring to me. I looked at Beregond, and saw that he was surprised that he was spoken to as well.

"Injured?" I questioned stupidly, and Beregond agreed. But the warden knelt beside me and gently touched my right arm. I looked at the arm and was shocked by how bad it looked. It was badly burned, and I could not feel his hand upon my arm. He gently lowered my arm and walked behind me, forcing me to another spare bed. Another healer went to a protesting Beregond, but when she gestured towards his arm, he stared at it dumbly.

"Lord Faramir! Why have you not sought aid?" Nestedrin demanded anxiously, gathering herbs and bandages and laying them out on the bed. He walked in front of me and looked at me in the eyes. In a way, I was intimidated by the fierceness of his questioning. I could not speak out…again. "Your brother shall not miss your company for a minute, and at the moment you are in grave need of medicine!"

Then he turned to Beregond, glaring at the gaping knight, whose arm was being tended to by poultices. He didn't seem to notice the pain that spasms from his limb. "You, of all knights, sir Beregond, should know that you and your lord is injured as well."

"Then let me assist him my Lord." A familiar voice called. I turned my head and gasped.

Aragorn, in his magnificence and in no worse state than I am, was standing in the doorway.


	37. Discoveries

A/N: Thanks again to Sapphire who beta read this chapter!

Aragorn ran a gentle hand over each of my wounds, inspecting them as a father would look at his child's wounds. He had set a pot of water to a boil and had laid some Athelas in it. The aroma the plant issued was truly astounded; it was as if a fresh spring breeze had just blown in from the mountain. The bubbling sound puts me to ease, as if the very smell of the Athelas washed away all my troubles at that moment. I wish that to be true, but I felt a disturbance around here, that more troubles will be added instead of taken away.

"Mellon Nin, why did you not seek healing?" He asked me with a worried voice as he applied various salves to my burned arm. He looked for some bandages, and glanced over his shoulder towards Beregond, who was a little occupied by the warden, Nestriden who shushed him every moment before making him drink a brew. Wondering if the brew was foul-tasting, I looked for a reaction on the knight's face, and indeed he did make one. I chuckled heartedly.

But then it occurred to me that Aragorn was waiting for my reply. "I did not realize how extensively I had burned my arm." I answered sheepishly. Once I said it I realized how ridiculous it truly sounded. How had I not realized how badly I had burned it? It was practically smoking!

Yet he looked at me very seriously, with an obvious look of incredulity on his face. "I was not speaking of just your arm Faramir. The scars on your back have broken and are bleeding; your thigh, arm and legs are also bleeding from what appear to be sword and arrow wounds. I can not fathom how you manage to fight, let alone rescue your brother." To be honest, I couldn't fathom it either. I simply just knew that I had to save him.

"I had to." I shrugged simply, and felt a wretched spasm of pain from my spine, as if proving Aragorn's point. I kept it in however, making no facial expression but I suspect that he knows anyway. I looked up and stared at Aragorn. He was running his hand over my back, inspecting the wounds. His face looked worried and haggard. "Are you alright Aragorn?"

"I am simply tired, Faramir. The last few days have been long and strenuous." He paused for a moment as he brushed some more salves on my back. "Tell me Faramir, do you know who all have been brought to this house?" I shook my head in reply. I looked around for a familiar face on a white bed, but I could see none. "Then, you shall be quite surprised. Both Merry and Lady Eowyn managed to sneak away into the battle. And it is a very good thing that they did, for together they slew the Witchking."

"What?!" That was indeed surprising news. It was said that no man could kill the Witchking of Agmar. I felt myself smile at that, Eowyn would be thrilled at that. For indeed, no man had killed the evil Nazgul. The very thought of this was so amusing that I managed another chuckle but my back protested.

My lord's face, however was filled with regret however, and I paid attention. "Sadly though they slew him, he did leave a departing blow. They were attacked by the black breath." He peered at me for a moment and I nodded my understanding. I knew of what the black breath could do. What's worse, there was no known cure. I bowed my head and let my tears fall. I couldn't believe it; Merry should not have to face so cruel a fate. One so happy and full of life and love should not have such a despairing death. And poor Eowyn, I did not think this was a just fate for one who had already known such sorrows.

But of all things, he kept positive anyway. "It is alright Faramir, they shall live." I raised my head and stared at Aragorn, he had a slight smile. I returned it back, and he accepted it. "It cost me much energy, but I managed to call them back."

I stared at my King in utter wonder. Suddenly an old rhyme came back to my memory. "The hands of the king are the hands of the healer." I whispered. What other talents did this man hide in his sleeves, revealing them at the right time and place?

Aragorn smiled at me. "So it has been said." Then his face grew grave again. "Faramir, they slew the Witchking to stop his steed from desecrating Théoden's body." I stared at Aragorn in shock, replacing my awed feelings with horror. He looked at me and slowly nodded his head. I couldn't help but think how he could take all these news in. So, Théoden, the proud king of Rohan was dead. I bowed my head and my tears fell once again. It seemed so unjust that one who had been enslaved so long should lose his life so soon after finally finding freedom. I feared that this was just the first of many friends I would soon discover dead, I closed my eyes and wept, wept for Théoden, for the friends I had lost, and for my father. I found my tears renewed as I thought of my father, Aragorn pulled me to him and I cried all the more harder on his shoulder.

"I know, I know." He whispered, softly patting my back and muffling my sobs. "Tis a cruel fate to lose one who so recently found life." I cried for a little longer, all the while with Aragorn gently stroking my arms. Despite the pain embedded in them, there was a soothing effect from him, and I felt that my sorrow was leaving me.

"Faramir," Aragorn said quietly once my tears had abated. Already they crusted on my face, and it felt odd. "Mellon, you should rest. I have finished binding your wounds. You can sleep right here next to Boromir." He gently helped me re-don my tunic and then guided me into the bed beside my brother. I took one long look at Aragorn, who bowed before retreating to some other bed – perhaps Beregond's, who without doubt was listening as well. Then I look at my brother, whose peaceful face gave me the incentive to follow him and slept.

March 16, 3019:

I awoke, able to feel each of my wounds. My back was on fire, my arm was cold, and my thigh and legs were aching. The mixed feelings of all of my pains stiffened my joints. I recalled Aragorn's statement from the previous evenings and had to agree with him. How had I managed to fight? I looked at Beregond, but he was fast asleep, yet in no better condition than I am. How did he sleep so well, I will never know. I may in fact, envy him.

I had slept past the morning, and the sun was high in the sky. I got stiffly out of bed and checked on my brother. He was sleeping peacefully and felt cooler. I believe he was finally getting better. I checked his bandages and replaced a few of them. The soft bandages seem to tell me how lucky I am to be alive, and that I can see my brother as he is. Steadily wrapping them around his wounds, I looked at them and prayed that they would leave him. Once satisfied that he was alright I left his room and went searching for my friends.

I found Merry first. Pippin was by his side holding Merry's hand, his chin resting on his chest, fast asleep. He looked like he had been sitting there all night. I stood there for a while, examining their sleeping faces. I pitied Merry the most, wondering how he will get along in life with the cursed black breath on him. Hopefully Pippin can be happy for the both of them, and continue their little dances that entertained everyone else. Then I found myself wishing that I could see them dance again. I left the two hobbits to their sleep and went in search of Eowyn.

I found her in the next room. If I had not heard Aragorn say she was alive I would have thought her dead. She looked as pale as a winter morning frost, her skin was as cold as ice, but her presence intensified the beauty of the room. I went to my room and grabbed my blanket, then returned to her room and laid the blanket atop hers. I grabbed a chair and pulled it up beside her bed, taking my time to let my pain pass. I frowned as I looked around the room. Where was Eomer? Why was no one watching his sister? She was clearly not fully recovered yet, but her breathing paced normally. I took out some Athelas and broke it. Though I do not have Aragorn' skills the Athelas did freshen the room up some. Eowyn took a breath and some color returned to her pale cheeks. I took a moment and gazed at her features. She truly was a beautiful woman. Why was I so drawn to her? I had never really fallen in love with any woman of my own kind, let alone a country we were on somewhat of shaky grounds with. Yet, I could not stop feeling the need to be near her, to protect and heal her.

"Faramir?" Eomer's deep questioning voice surprised me so that I jumped when I heard him. I held fast onto the Athelas as I look around for him.

"Eomer!" I cried happily, quickly standing despite my condition. "How are you?" I then looked down and realized I had been holding Eowyn's cold hand nearly as tightly with the Athelas. I felt my cheeks grow hot as I dropped her hand. For some reason I felt an incredible need to explain why I had been holding her hand. So I blurted out my reasons. "I was walking the halls, checking in on all my friends and comrades when I happened upon her. She was alone, and shivering so I fetched another blanket for her, and decided to wait by her side for a healer." I dare not look at her, for I fear that she opened her eyes and looked at me in all of my embarrassment. Hopefully she did not know.

Eomer was giving me a slight smile, nodding, beckoning me towards him. "Come Faramir, Aragorn wishes to speak to you."

We walked down the hall and down the path out of Minas Tirith in companionable silence. The hallowed grounds and steps are being repaired as we walked. Both of us acknowledged anyone we passed, although it was a little difficult for me with my bandages. We finally found Aragorn waiting outside the city in a tent.


	38. Who Can Lie Idle?

_A/N: A thousand thanks to Sapphire Immortal who beta read these chapter for me.  
_

Aragorn stood tall there, gazing around the fields of Pelennor till he heard of our coming from a long way. "My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?" I asked, bowing as deeply as I can. My wounds are less than recovered.

He nodded towards Eomer, who returned the greeting. He took a good look at me; I tried flexing my shoulder blades because they ached too much for my liking. "Faramir, you are feeling better I trust?" I nodded my head happily. In approval, Eomer laughed and gently patted on my shoulder. We all laughed, glad to be alive and standing before each other.

Aragorn stopped the laughter with his sober look. "Then let us call a council together. Come, Faramir, the leaders of Middle Earth have assembled." He then rose from his seat and led me to another, larger tent filled with dignitaries, most of whom were my friends – I could see that they were mostly unharmed. Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Elrohir (son of Elrond dark-haired, grey-eyed, with an elven-fair face, clad in bright mail beneath a cloak of silver-grey), Eomer, my uncle Imrahil (my mothers brother, he has a noble bearing and is quite tall with dark hair and sea-grey eyes), and Elfhelm . I looked around the table and felt quite unworthy to sit among such noble people, and all the more worse with my visible injuries. Gimli and Legolas however, caught my eye and nodded as if they respected me to be standing with so many injuries about me. Gandalf's smiled slightly, and I felt like battling Orcs again.

"My lords," said Gandalf, starting the council. Everyone sat up straighter than I thought was possible and tried to follow. Thankfully my condition wasn't too serious, saving some face for myself. "Listen to the words of the Steward of Gondor before he died: You may triumph on the fields of the Pelennor for a day, but against the Power that has now arisen there is no victory. I do not bid you despair, as he did, but to ponder the truth in these words.

"The Stones of Seeing do not lie, and not even the Lord of Barad-dûr can make them do so. He can, maybe, by his will choose what things shall be seen by weaker minds, or cause them to mistake the meaning of what they see. Nonetheless it cannot be doubted that when Denethor saw great forces arrayed against him in Mordor, and more still being gathered, he saw that which truly is. 'Hardly has our strength sufficed to beat off the first great assault. The next will be greater. This war then is without final hope, as Denethor perceived. Victory cannot be achieved by arms, whether you sit here to endure siege after siege, or march out to be overwhelmed beyond the River. You have only a choice of evils; and prudence would counsel you to strengthen such strong places as you have, and there await the onset; for so shall the time before your end be made a little longer."

I was somewhat confused by Gandalf's statement, it sounded as if he wanted us to retreat. Gandalf, who had so fearlessly led us during the battle of Pelennor fields, wanted us to retreat. Did an Orc hit him on the head, or was I imagining things? Some were murmuring darkly to themselves, wondering if it was wise to heed his warning. Although I trust Gandalf to any point of life or death, I could not help but feel the shame of doubt of his words, however wise he is from his aged years.

'Then you would have us retreat to Minas Tirith, or Dol Amroth, or to Dunharrow, and there sit like children on sand-castles when the tide is flowing?' said Uncle Imrahil, voicing my thoughts. Obviously he was skeptical, and his expression wasn't the only ones around.

"That would be no new counsel," said Gandalf with a snort, thumping his white staff. "Have you not done this and little more in all the days of Denethor? But no! I said this would be prudent. I do not counsel prudence. I said victory could not be achieved by arms. I still hope for victory, but not by arms. For into the midst of all these policies comes the Ring of Power, the foundation of Barad-dûr, and the hope of Sauron.

"Concerning this thing, my lords, you now all know enough for the understanding of our plight, and of Sauron's. If he regains it, your valour is vain, and his victory will be swift and complete: so complete that none can foresee the end of it while this world lasts. If it is destroyed, then he will fall; and his fall will be so low that none can foresee his arising ever again. For he will lose the best part of the strength that was native to him in his beginning, and all that was made or begun with that power will crumble, and he will be maimed for ever, becoming a mere spirit of malice that gnaws itself in the shadows, but cannot again grow or take shape. And so a great evil of this world will be removed.

"Other evils there are that may come; for Sauron is himself but a servant or emissary. Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succor of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.

"Now Sauron knows all this, and he knows that this precious thing which he lost has been found again; but he does not yet know where it is, or so we hope. And therefore he is now in great doubt. For if we have found this thing, there are some among us with strength enough to wield it. That too he knows. For do I not guess rightly, Aragorn, that you have shown yourself to him in the Stone of Orthanc?"

Now this was news to me. If Aragorn had indeed shown himself to Sauron and walked away, then he was far stronger than any had imagined. I remembered Pippin's cry when he came in contact with the thing, and he was left shivering in the dark. Only Gandalf could comfort him because he is the only one who could bring him out.

"I did so ere I rode from the Hornburg," answered Aragorn, nodding. He shifted himself for a better position to speak. In doing so, he made himself look even more kingly than before. One should admire him for that. "I deemed that the time was ripe, and that the Stone had come to me for just such a purpose. It was then ten days since the Ring-bearer went east from Rauros, and the Eye of Sauron, I thought, should be drawn out from his own land. Too seldom has he been challenged since he returned to his Tower. Though if I had foreseen how swift would be his onset in answer, maybe I should not have dared to show myself. Bare time was given me to come to your aid."

"But how is this?" asked Éomer, frowning deeply. "All is vain, you say, if he has the Ring. Why should he think it not vain to assail us, if we have it?"

That was a very good point, the likes of which I had never considered. I looked for reactions from others, and they agreed with his question, but at the same time had that look that they'd rather not have Sauron assail us. I second their thoughts.

"He is not yet sure," answered Gandalf with his wondering tone of voice, "and he has not built up his power by waiting until his enemies are secure, as we have done. Also we could not learn how to wield the full power all in a day. Indeed it can be used only by one master alone, not by many; and he will look for a time of strife, ere one of the great among us makes himself master and puts down the others. In that time the Ring might aid him, if he were sudden."

He looked straight at Eomer in the eye, full of thought and understanding. I still couldn't fathom how old the wizard is. "He is watching. He sees much and hears much. His Nazgûl are still abroad. They passed over this field ere the sunrise, though few of the weary and sleeping were aware of them. He studies the signs: the Sword that robbed him of his treasure re-made; the winds of fortune turning in our favour, and the defeat unlooked-for of his first assault the fall of his great Captain.'

"His doubt will be growing, even as we speak here. His Eye is now straining towards us; blind almost to all else that is moving. So we must keep it. Therein lies all our hope. This, then, is my counsel. We have not the Ring. In wisdom or great folly it has been sent away to be destroyed, lest it destroy us. Without it we cannot by force defeat his force. But we must at all costs keep his Eye from his true peril. We cannot achieve victory by arms, but by arms we can give the Ring-bearer his only chance, frail though it be.'

"As Aragorn has begun, so we must go on. We must push Sauron to his last throw. We must call out his hidden strength, so that he shall empty his land. We must march out to meet him at once. We must make ourselves the bait, though his jaws should close on us. He will take that bait, in hope and in greed, for he will think that in such rashness he sees the pride of the new Ringlord: and he will say: "So! He pushes out his neck too soon and too far. Let him come on, and behold I will have him in a trap from which he cannot escape. There I will crush him, and what he has taken in his insolence shall be mine again forever.

"We must walk open-eyed into that trap, with courage, but small hope for ourselves. For, my lords, it may well prove that we ourselves shall perish utterly in a black battle far from the living lands; so that even if Barad-dûr be thrown down, we shall not live to see a new age. But this, I deem, is our duty. And better so than to perish nonetheless - as we surely shall, if we sit here - and know as we die that no new age shall be." And with that, he leaned back onto his grand chair, a little weary perhaps by trying to give advice to those whose age are like children to him.

We sat in silence, contemplating Gandalf's counsel. At length Aragorn spoke. "As I have begun, so I will go on. We come now to the very brink, where hope and despair are akin. To waver is to fall. Let none now reject the counsels of Gandalf, whose long labors against Sauron come at last to their test. But for him all would long ago have been lost. Nonetheless I do not yet claim to command any man. Let others choose as they will." Yet when he said it, it was like he challenged anyone who dared refuse Gandalf's advice.

Then said Elrohir, his voice set and determined along with the echoing voices from the forests and woods: "From the North we came with this purpose, and from Elrond our father we brought this very counsel. We will not turn back."

"As for myself," said Eomer, "I have little knowledge of these deep matters; but I need it not. This I know, and it is enough, that as my friend Aragorn succored me and my people, so I will aid him when he calls. I will go." There was a pause, and I wondered if he still grieved for his uncle. Should I still grieve for my father, who whipped me from the time I came back after writing that letter? Gandalf would've said that now was not the time to grieve yet, but how Boromir would take the news, whether by his madness, death or both, it would wound him to the heart further than any injury.

With these thoughts, I knew that it is time for me to speak my piece. "As for me," I said, "Lord Aragorn I hold you to be my liege-lord, my King, whether he claim it or no. His wish is to me a command. I will go also. Yet for a while I stand in the place of the Steward of Gondor, and it is mine to think first of its people. To prudence some heed must still be given. For we must prepare against all chances, good as well as evil. Now, it may be that we shall triumph, and while there is any hope of this, Gondor must be protected. I would not have us return with victory to a City in ruins and a land ravaged behind us. And yet we learn from the Rohirrim that there is an army still un-fought upon our northern flank." For a moment there, I thought that my pain from my wounds subsided as I spoke. Tis quite an interesting feeling.

"That is true," said Gandalf, pleased with my answer. I smiled back. "I do not counsel you to leave the City all unmanned. Indeed the force that we lead east need not be great enough for any assault in earnest upon Mordor, so long as it be great enough to challenge battle. And it must move soon. Therefore I ask the Captains: what force could we muster and lead out in two days' time at the latest? And they must be hardy men that go willingly, knowing their peril."

Summoning up any men, let alone a full army would prove quite the challenge. I do not believe there was any man left in all of Middle Earth that had not been injured in some fashion. I immediately thought of Beregond. Most likely, he would insist that his pains are merely nothing and he could ride on a horse for two days without trouble. In fact, how was I going to go? It would be deeply embarrassing for me if my wounds held me back from this mission.

"All are weary, and very many have wounds light or grievous," said Eomer, giving me a quick glance. I should think that everyone looked at me, "and we have suffered much loss of our horses, and that is ill to bear. If we must ride soon, then I cannot hope to lead even two thousands, and yet leave as many for the defense of the City."

"We have not only to reckon with those who fought on this field," said Aragorn. "New strength is on the way from the southern fiefs, now that the coasts have been rid. Four thousands I sent marching from Pelargir through Lossarnach two days ago; and Angbor the fearless rides before them. If we set out in two days more, they will draw nigh ere we depart. Moreover many were bidden to follow me up the River in any craft they could gather; and with this wind they will soon be at hand, indeed several ships have already come to the Harlond. I judge that we could lead out seven thousands of horse and foot, and yet leave the City in better defense than it was when the assault began." This news lightened the mood. Perhaps we can accomplish this with few losses.

"The Gate is destroyed," said Imrahil gravely, "and where now is the skill to rebuild it and set it up anew?"

I felt myself smile at that comment. Even Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf followed. Aragorn had a perfect answer for that, there's no doubt.

"In Erebor in the Kingdom of Dáin there is such skill," said Aragorn in no time wasted; "and if all our hopes do not perish, then in time I will send Gimli Glóin's son to ask for wrights of the Mountain. But men are better than gates, and no gate will endure against our Enemy if men desert it."

And thus ended the debate of the lords. It pleased me that Aragorn's answer satisfied Imrahil. Now all that was left was to figure out just how many men we could summon.

It numbered up to about seven thousand.

Imrahil laughed aloud upon seeing this number. Some groaned at the sum, knowing that this cannot do. I cannot blame them, for I feel like demanding for more.

"Surely," he cried in incredulity – he was not alone in that part, "this is the greatest jest in all the history of Gondor: that we should ride with seven thousands, scarce as many as the vanguard of its army in the days of its power, to assail the mountains and the impenetrable gate of the Black Land! So might a child threaten a mail-clad knight with a bow of string and green willow! If the Dark Lord knows so much as you say, Mithrandir, will he not rather smile than fear, and with his little finger crush us like a fly that tries to sting him?"

The elderly wizard cocked his head to one side. "No, he will try to trap the fly and take the sting," said Gandalf in his obvious-to-see tone. "And there are names among us that are worth more than a thousand mail-clad knights apiece. No, he will not smile."

"Neither shall we," said Aragorn. "If this be jest, then it is too bitter for laughter. Nay, it is the last move in a great jeopardy, and for one side or the other it will bring the end of the game." Then he drew Andúril and held it up glittering in the sun. Some, including him looked at it in awe, seeing how the sun shines upon it as if it would only light for that once shattered blade. "You shall not be sheathed again until the last battle is fought." he said.

At these words the council was over and the men made to leave. I arose stiffly and awkwardly from my seat, irritated that I was to be reminded of my wounds and bandages. I headed for the door, gently refusing help from anyone, but let them know that I was in enough condition that I could walk well at least.

"Faramir, might I speak to you for a moment?" Aragorn called after me just before I reached the entrance. I went out of the way for others to pass and pivoted on one foot to turn to the future king of Gondor.

"Surely my Lord." I turned around and followed Aragorn to a corner of the room. I re-adjusted some bandages that nudged at my skin and looked Aragorn.

"What does the King wish?" I questioned, giving a respectful bow.

He sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Do not be offended Mellon, for you know I hold no friend to be more dear to me than you. However, I do not think it would be wise for you to accompany us to Mordor." Aragorn knew that my heart sank at these words, but they have logic in them, so I cannot argue much. I should go to Beregond and tell him that he cannot go with the army as well. He looked worse than I do. He paused for a moment to let the news sink and then continued. "I would rather you wait here, as Steward of Gondor, and make her ready for the worse. I trust no man to defend her save you, for I know none who love her as you. What say you? Will you keep her ready for our return, whether it be in victory or defeat?

"I will, lord," said I, nodding in agreement. Gondor will be well looked after, that I swear in my heart. "For who would lie idle when the king has returned?"


	39. Starting to Heal

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire who beta-read this :)_

The walk back to the House of Healing was both long and painful. My sore muscles, and wounded body renewed their persistent complaints with each step I took. The fact that I was insisted to stay here, while the others go and divert Sauron's gaze for a chance for Frodo to complete his Quest unnecessarily adds more to the pains. But since it was Lord Aragorn – no, if it were anyone, I suppose that I had to stay anyway. My appearance was reason enough. I took the time to look around the scenery. The builders seem to have increased their pace on the repairs when I went to the meeting, or the meeting took longer than I expected. Nonetheless, Gondor was healing faster than I did.

When I did finally make it to the house of healing I went straight to Beregond, Boromir, and my room. Nodding in respect to the healers that rushed too quick to notice my greetings, I managed to dodge them – or they dodged me – and before long I arrived. Beregond and Boromir were both still sleeping. I walked over and sat beside my brother's bed. I examined his wounds, and his bandages, pleased to notice that they had been recently cleaned and changed. I chuckled to see that they were more expertly wrapped around his wounds than the last time I attempted.

I got up from his bed and walked over to Beregond. I have yet to thank the knight for his deeming loyalty. There will be a time when I will make it clear that I truly appreciate his help when my father was still alive. "Still sleeping my friend? Did you fall into Mirkwood's enchanted River?" I joked softly as I examined his wounds. His had also been changed recently, though his went better than mine. I laughed some more. Apparently everyone healed faster than I, but perhaps that was because I was walking around for some time now. What would Nestedrin say?

Satisfied that my friends were fine I went to get a bite to eat, grateful to finally have a chance to eat. Looking around, there were many who seized the opportunity to sit down and enjoy their meals. But it was quieter than I would've expected, and I suspect that they were either still grieving for their loved ones – I don't blame them at all – or too tired from the battle. I wondered if they have received any notice that the ones that aren't so severely injured are going to ride to war once again…perhaps for the last time. I ignored that thought for a while and went to devour my potatoes and other various sorts of delicious things. After my meal I went back to my room and found Beregond just waking.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to wake up." I teased, grinning like there's no tomorrow. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. His deep voice added effect to his stiff groan, reminding me when I first woke too. I couldn't help but laugh for some reason. Perhaps it felt good to be alive. That feeling still stayed in me after my first battle.

"What time is it?" He asked out loud, not yet realizing I was in the room.(I smiled, wondering when he was going to realize.

"After six, March 16th if you've lost track." I answered, moving a little closer.

He jumped at the sound of my voice and then blushed when he realized how long he had been sleeping. "My liege, I am terribly sorry, I should have been serving both you and Boromir!" Then suddenly he made a slight pained face, as if he moved in the wrong direction and woke some annoying wound. I am going to doubt the appearance of his healing wounds in comparison to mine. I'm sure that I was certainly not in that much pain.

I tsked as I moved swiftly to his side and propped him up back to his former position. "Come now, don't be ridiculous. You should have done nothing of the sort. Besides," I said as I stiffly sat down at the end of his bed. "We're both far two injured to serve anybody." I smiled and leaned towards him conspiringly. "You want to know what happened while you were asleep?" He tilted his head and nodded. "Aragorn held a council, which decided what we, and the rest of the free men of Middle Earth, shall do."

I waited a moment, just to torture him. "Well?" He finally asked, knowing that I was purposely delaying the message.

"Aragorn, and all the men he, and Éomer, can summon shall march on the black gates." I then continued to tell him the all that we had discussed in the long council. Midway through telling the story I realized that he would have no idea what the one ring was, so I went back to how my part in the tale had really started. So, I told him of Rivendell, the council, the decision to destroy the Ring, the making of the Fellowship, the journey of the Fellowship, the separating of our Fellowship, and our journey through Rohan, the battle of Helms Deep, and finally our arrival at Gondor. It made me realize that I could have Gandalf's gift of story telling, because his eyes grew wider and shocked with each twisting detail.

"So that is how you came to know Aragorn." Beregond murmured knowingly. He then gave me an evil grin. I didn't like the looks of it, not one bit. "And how you came to know the Lady Éowyn."

I froze. "E-Excuse me?" I stammered, as I felt my cheeks grow warmer. Was I really that obvious?

It was his turn to laugh out loud, but then he accidentally slipped when he went too far and groaned. I waited for no reason for him to recover before saying anything."Oh come now Lord Faramir, you didn't really think I couldn't notice how well you describe her. And you also forgot that I saw your reaction when you heard she had the black breath. You clearly thought more of her than a friend." I knelt my head and blushed even deeper. He had to laugh harder and I shot him an annoyed look. But he ignored it and continued laughing as if he knew all about the troubles of lovers. It was true though, I really do like the Lady Éowyn, and I've no idea what to do about it. She is so taken with Aragorn that she has no room in her heart for anyone else. But if she does take a liking to me, then I fear that Beregond would never let me hear the end of it, but I would welcome it anyway.

"What are the two of you still doing up?!" Nestedrin said reproachfully as he walked into our room. I caught his cocking of an eyebrow when he saw that I was blushing. I didn't know how, but I managed to suppress it. Yet rather, I think he was more disapproved that I was up and about in my condition.

"For your information, we have been discussing the future of Middle Earth, and were just finishing when you came in." I said jokingly. But then Beregond gave a short laugh, and I nearly went red again at the thought of Éowyn. I got up from the bed, trying not to look as sore as I felt, and gave a short bow to Nestedrin. "Now, if you will excuse us, it is time that Beregond and myself got to sleep." I walked towards my bed and sat down.

"But then I would be neglecting my duties as head healer, Lord Faramir." Nestedrin protested slightly, looking around for supplies to put on me. Was there anywhere else on my wounded body that they haven't applied their miraculous medicines on?

"Nonsense." I replied, a little surprised at his anxiousness. "Lord Boromir, and Beregond have had their wounds cleaned, and there bandages changed. You have done an admirable job."

Apparently Nestedrin was very pleased with my answer, but he maintained his usual stern but kind composure. "On Lord Boromir, and Sir Beregond, but I have neglected my duties to you."

Beregond laughed and gave me a smile, and even added a wink. I wasn't sure what would have happen if I responded to that, but groaned - silently anyway. "Well," he said, still grinning, "it was not your fault. Lord Faramir has spent the better part of the day in a council with Lord Aragorn."

"Oh really?" Nestedrin replied, enlightened obviously. "Then I shall have to have a talk with Lord Aragorn. King or not he should not be making the injured work."

I stepped in before Nestedrin could make any more comments. "It was not Lord Aragorn's fault, he had not intended for the council to last for such a long time. And as Steward of the city, I had to participate in the discussions." I gingerly shrugged off my tunic and pointed to my bandages. I didn't realize that I was that bloodied. It certainly didn't feel like it. "However, since I am here now, you may examine my wounds, though I dare say it is not necessary, I am feeling much better."

Nestedrin crossed the room quickly like an elf and started to examine the wounds. Midway through his exam I heard him cluck his tongue disapprovingly. "What is it Nestedrin?" I questioned, worried.

"Have you been able to use your right arm?" He questioned, feeling it gently. I kept in the pained messages my injury whined of. I shook my head to his question, "I haven't really tried to. I thought I was not supposed to." I answered. Frankly, I didn't think about it at all.

"Well I fear that it's become infected." He looked over at Beregond, who nodded as well. "You, go get the Lord Aragorn, he shall wish to take a look at this."


	40. Shall Not Last

A/N: Thanks again to Sapphire who beta read this chapter!

Infected? I frowned. Of course my arm would become infected, that was just the sort of luck I have. Nestedrin left the room to get some salves and a few more bandages. I closed my eyes and lay back on bed. I took a glance towards Beregond, who casts a worried look towards me and I shrugged as slightly as I could to avoid pain. Gritting my teeth against the pain my back sent me as I laid on it. I grunted and gingerly rolled to my side, growling as my left arm and thigh sent more messages of pain. I finally gave up the effort of finding a comfortable position and just sat up.

It just occurred to me that Nestedrin, of all people, told Beregond to fetch Lord Aragorn to look over my infected wound. Beregond, who was still healing probably had to walk all the way down Minas Tirith then out the gates to get him. I surely hope that this wound of mine was well worth the trouble.

It was a most anxious while before Aragorn entered the room with all haste with a wearied Beregond. "Faramir, let me see your arm." Aragorn's deep, calming voice washed over me, calming my riled nerves. I held up my right arm and let him inspect it. Beregond followed in behind him and sat down on his bed, easing his way onto his bed and nodded towards me. After a few moments Nestedrin came in and set some salves down beside Aragorn.

The two pondered upon the appearance of my wound so quietly, I could only tell from the graveness of their tone that it was worse than what Nestedrin had claimed. "Well," he finally said, looking straight at me, eye-to-eye. I prepared myself as best as I could, trying to block out the pain. "There is both good and bad news Mellon."

"Give me the bad first, if you please." I whispered; my eyes shut against the pain my body was in.

"It is indeed infected." He stated calmly and I could feel him rubbing some foul smelling salve on to my arm. I do not want to know what it is called. "However," he continued. "I believe that Nestedrin caught it before it became too serious. It shall cause some discomfort, but I believe it shall heal with out giving us any problems." I slowly opened my eyes and looked at Aragorn's kind, wise face. I am most glad that I was not born Orc, Goblin or anything else he wouldn't hesitate to kill in the spur of battle.

I swear I could burn instantly if that odor was fire. "Just answer me one more question Aragorn."

He set down his salve and looked at me. "Of course Mellon, what is it you wish to ask?"

"Do I have to keep wearing that foul salve? I fear I shall pass out from its hideous smell!" I said laughing.

Nestedrin laughed suddenly along with Beregond who I'm sure would agree. Aragorn gave a broad smile and chuckled. "Yes Mellon, you shall have to wear it for a while yet, just until tomorrow evening."

"Well then," Beregond said grinning, "I should like to switch rooms till tomorrow!" I laughed out loud and instantly regretted the action as I felt my bruised ribs complain. Lord Aragorn shook his head and patted on my ribs, somehow heeding the pain to leave. I must apologize, as Nestedrin's scolding voice insisted that I should rest and leave my thoughts alone for now.

**March 18, 3019:**

Yesterday passed with lots of activity, but little excitement. We made everything ready for Aragorn and Éomer's departure today, and made sure the city would stay safe, hopefully for more than the time being. I could do no better than make suggestions for others who stayed away at a considerable non-foul-smelling distance. That irked me, much to Beregond's entertainment.

Legolas and Gimli were to ride again together in the company of Aragorn and Gandalf, who went in the lead. With the Dúnedain, Éomer, and the sons of Elrond.

Neither I, Merry, who decided to visit me when he was fit enough for Nestedrin's eye, Beregond, nor Éowyn was to accompany them. Watching my dearest friends depart, I was nearly overwhelmed with shame that I was not to go with them. But seeing that Beregond behaved no better than a child who wants to ride his father's horse for the first time, I was comparatively taking the situation like an adult…or was it the other way around? Beregond chided me for complaining too much. I beg to differ.

"You are not fit for such a journey," said Aragorn for the umpteenth time much to my protests. 'But do not be ashamed. If you do no more in this war, you have already earned great honor." He turned to Merry who was still a little sickly pale from the black breath, and knelt down so that he was on eye level. "Peregrin shall go and represent the Shirefolk; and do not grudge him his chance of peril, for though he has done as well as his fortune allowed him, he has yet to match your deed. But in truth all now are in like danger." He then stood and addressed Beregond, Merry, and I. "Though it may be our part to find bitter end before the Gate of Mordor, if we do so, then you will come also to a last stand, and if it does come to you, I pray that you all may long hold this city against her foes. Farewell my dear friends!" And with those final words my King and dearest friends rode off to lead the army of the free people of Middle Earth in what looked to be their last stand.

And so despondently we now stood - I was most glad that I could stand now - and watched the mustering of that army.

At last the trumpets rang and the army began to move. Troop by troop, and company by company, they wheeled and went off eastward. And long after they had passed away out of sight down the great road to the Causeway, we still stood there. The last glint of the morning sun on spear and helm twinkled and was lost, and still we remained with bowing heads and heavy hearts, feeling friendless and alone. Nearly everyone that we cared for had gone away into the gloom that hung over the distant eastern sky; and little hope at all was left in our hearts that we would ever see any of them again. After a while Beregond left to see his son and wife with the aid of a healer to see to his arm and other various wounds.

'Come, Master Merry!' I finally said to the Hobbit after we stood for what seemed like an eternity after the army's leaving. It pained me to see that he responded so little."You are still in pain, I see. I will help you back to the Healers. But do not fear! They will come back. The Men of Minas Tirith will never be overcome. And now they have the Lord Elfstone, and Pippin of the Shire too."

We made our way back to the house of healing. I left Merry in his room, still morose and regretful of his condition and went to my own to check on my brother. He still slept, haven't opened an eyelid ever since he arrived at the House of Healing. Nestedrin said that he was too exhausted, and was simply lucky that he was alive at all, let alone in one piece. His visible scars are fading, as it seems, and his breathing tempered the tension within me.

I lay down on my bed, ignoring the pain and closed my eyes.

"Why must all this be happening?" I questioned aloud. Why had Mordor had to attack? Why had my Father looked into the Palantir? Why had it driven him crazy? Why had he tried to burn my brother and himself to death? Why had my brother been so injured? Why had all my friends been so badly injured in the fight? Why had so many of my friends not made it out of the battle alive? And why now had what few of my friends that did make it out alive have to go right back into another hopeless battle? Where was our hope?

The bitter irony of that question struck me as soon as I had thought it. My hope, my Estel was headed towards the black gates, most likely to meet his doom.

And I am not there to see that he is safe.

I don't know when I fell to sleep, only that I was plagued by unending nightmares in my sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the madness in my father's eyes. I felt the cruel flames engulf my body. I watched as my father burnt my beloved Boromir to death, while he cried out to me for help, but I stood there, still as a pillar of cold stone. Haunting, insane cackles of my father resounded in my sleep and wake. I awoke crying into my pillow, far to frighten to fall back asleep.

So I left my bed and walked the quiet halls of the House of Healing. Only they weren't so very quite tonight. As I walked by Merry's room I was stopped by a faint sound issuing from his room. I attentively opened the door and peeked in the room, to see if my friend was safe.

He was sitting up in his bed, his head bowed, gripping a pillow in a fierce embrace, weeping quietly.

I strode across the room in a few swift steps, oblivious to my injuries and that ghastly smell of the salve. He was oblivious to my coming till I sat down beside him. To my surprise he leaned towards me, his head still buried in his tear-soaked pillow.

"Merry, whatever is wrong?" I questioned quietly and gently as I put my arm around the little hobbit. I was shocked by how terribly cold his arm was. Curse that black breath. Curse that Nazgul. Curse every vile thing that Sauron spawned, and the fires take him. Curse them – Merry should not be so trouble and be made in this condition. I could felt the sadness of his problems seep into me, and I took it in as if I could lift his sorrows for a moment or two. Longer is fine, as long as he would stop crying, but it looks like it would not stop yet.

"Everything," he cried loudly, but then hushed down, realizing how his voice echoed, and diminished to nearly nothing. "My friends have all gone off." He looked up at me his face distraught. "I've no one left, Faramir! Frodo and Sam are in the very heart of Mordor, attempting to destroy the One Ring in the very depth of Sauron's realm. And now Pippin has gone to join him. I'm all alone in the dark." His eyes widened and grew distant. "I can see him with my every breath, every time I close my eyes he is before me again. He's taunting me! There's nobody to help me bear it. Aragorn and Gandalf have both gone, and the Valar seem so far away I fear I shall never find them."

As the tears streamed fast down poor Merry's little cheeks, he stretched out his hand in a helpless sort of way, and I took it in mine, whispering as well as I could. "I'm here. Hold on to me, Merry, hold onto me, together we shall make it through! There is hope even now, the shadow does not hold yet, not over you not over me. We shall out last even this darkness."

I could not speak anymore, but I held onto him, trying to warm up his cold body. I wished I could think of something more comforting to say, but no words would come to me, so I just stroked his back. After a while his sobbing stopped. He took a shuddery breath and grew still.

"Thank you Faramir." He whispered. "I had forgotten I was not alone. I believe I shall be okay. If the despair comes upon me again I believe I shall be able to bear it." He looked up at me with his damp eyes and gave me a faint smile. I smiled as well, and I could've sworn that that smile went slightly broader. "I believe you are right. Even this darkness must pass."

I spent a while longer in Merry's room, just till the little hobbit returned to sleep for a while and tucked him back into his warm bed. When I returned to my own room I felt oddly light. It was as if a weight had been lifted from me. I still didn't know the answer to why everything had happened, only that I would make it through the darkness.


	41. To Dream Again

_A/N: A thousand thanks to Sapphire Immortal who beta read these chapter for me.  
_

**March 19, 3019:**

I shouldn't have gone back to bed.

The minute I closed my eyes I was plagued by the nightmare again. Only now it was Boromir, and Aragorn who were burning, but as they were consumed by the flames, they refused to let out their pain and locked them in till the end. I awoke, screaming their names into my pillow, with my hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Why could I not close my eyes without seeing that dream? Would I forever be plagued by it? A thought suddenly occurring to me I twisted my head to look at Beregond's bunk – he wasn't there. For a moment I was shocked wide-eyed by this revelation, but then I recalled that Nestedrin had allowed him to sleep with his wife and son.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to stop shaking. It took a while, repeating myself to keep calm, but my breathing was ragged as if I were in the midst of battle. Finally I told myself that I was safe in the House of Healing. No evil would find me here. I took another breath and lay back down on my bed.

It was a mistake. The minute my eyes shut I saw the flames again, this time they were pitch black and I was in the centre of the heat, with my father doing some wild dance while my brother was next, unconscious…. I jumped up, and nearly fell as I felt my body flare up in pain.

I rubbed my eyes furiously to clear my teary eyed vision, and saw my brother.

He was fast asleep, lying on his side as he always does. One arm was tucked back under his head while the other lay across his chest. But it was his face that enraptured me. He looked peaceful, his breathing soothed me and I looked at him for a while. It has been a long time since I have seen him look so unburdened.

A sudden inspiration hit me. Slightly excited, I grabbed my blanket and quietly walked to his bed. Moving ever so softly I got into the bed beside him where I could. I laid the blanket on top of myself and laid my arm under my head. I took a breath and studied Boromir's face. I was amazed at all the little scars on his face, and that I knew the source of them all. I felt a slight smile cross my lips as I recalled some of the more humorous events that had caused his wounds. Truly, no other being knew me as well as my brother. And I knew no one else as well as I knew him.

But I frowned at the thought of what had caused our injuries. How much had happened to us in these last months? I had no idea of what all had happened to my brother, and it broke my heart. The added injustice of his latest injuries, and near burning, threatened to overwhelm me. My brother had ever been my protector. He had always been the one to get me out of trouble. But as of late it seemed as though we were switching roles. First I had been gifted with the vision of his death, and allowed the right to save him from that dark fate. Then I had saved him from my father's madness.

Yet no amount of rescues could ever repay all that he had done for me.

He was my support, my refuge, my one sure thing. When everything in my life seemed to be crashing down, and I felt like I was in a freefall, he was always there to catch me. I don't know how he does it, but I had always looked up to him. He was my protector, my captain, my dearest brother.

I took in his comforting scent and closed my eyes, and this time, I did not see the fires, but something equally as disturbing. I did not want to see either in my mind.

Waking hour's later, I reeled in what I had dreamt.

I was standing outside in the gardens, overlooking Pelennor Fields, free of the bloodied bodies and weapons that stabbed its surface, when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I shifted my gaze and saw Lady Éowyn sitting on a bench. She had her head in her hands, and was crying softly. Quiet, racking sobs tore the silent air.

I tried to move towards her but was unable to move. Frustrated, I opened my mouth to speak, but before I had the chance to the scene before me changed.

I was now standing, neigh, hovering, about fifty feet past the garden wall. For a moment I was unable to breath, being so frightened, until I became fully focused on what I was seeing.

Lady Éowyn was standing in front of the wall. She was openly weeping as she clutched a crumpled letter to her chest. Hot tears splattered the paper till it was damp. Her face was so despairing that I thought my heart truly would break. I realized how attached to her I was, but then I came to the conclusion that no one would have some other feeling after seeing her like this.

Then the unthinkable occurred.

She threw the letter aside and climbed atop the wall. In that instant I threw myself towards her with all my strength, but I was too late. She jumped from the wall and fell below.

A scream fell silent from my lips, but I suddenly felt myself being pulled forward, and through the wall. Through fury, I fought against the force that willed me to bend down and pick up the letter. I hesitated, trying to jump so that I could get to Lady Éowyn . Instead, I slowly looked down at the sheet and recognized Aragorn fair script.

_Vanmelda, Arwen Everstar._

Beneath these words was a picture of the beautiful daughter of Elrond, solemn as she were, she was smiling this time and the artist captured her rare beauty. Suddenly that reminded of Lady Éowyn .

In an instant I realized this was a vision, and I awoke.


	42. Rock Rose

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire who beta-read this :)_

I sat up in the bed and looked around in shock. I couldn't believe what I had foreseen! How had the House of Healing let lady Éowyn do such a terrible thing? What's more, why had I not been able to stop her? I tried to resist clenching my hands, but to fight against it was to fight against my frustration of not being able to help her.

I leaned back in my bed and tried to steady myself. I must calm down. I would not let the white lady do such a disastrous thing. Not while I still stand and be able to wield a sword to defend those I love . I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. As I did, the vividness of the vision faded a little , but the effect was still there and I moaned, putting my head back down on the bed.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked out the window; it was still the middle of the night. I would need to wait for a while before I disturb the fair lady. I closed my eyes again and attempted to get some sleep. After a while I gave it up for naught, I was too tensed and worried to find the blessed rest of sleep. That worried me, as it gave me a suspicious feeling that I cannot rest till the Dark Lord is dead, or whenever this blasted matter is done and over with. So once again, I rose from the bed and left my room to walk the quite halls of the house of healing, and I am so glad that I did.

I walked down the halls aimlessly, till I approached the door leading to the houses garden. For some reason I love to walk in the garden, maybe it is simply that its vey smell seems to calm my nerves. It had been my place of refuge when my deceased father had berated me in any way possible. Gandalf also love this place, praising the skills of the proud gardeners. Regardless of the reason, I decided to walk in the garden.

I was not the only one who decided to walk in this peaceful garden.

I had just gone round the azalea bushes. They were my mother's favorite flower and I have always loved their smell but then I saw a thin figure sitting on a bench against the wall.

It was Lady Éowyn, and she looked as though she had been crying.

I hesitated for a moment by the bushes, debating whether or not I should approach her. I wanted nothing more than to be near this beautiful woman, but I was terrified of her rejection. She was fully in love with Aragorn, and I do not believe she has any room in her heart for any other. While I stood there debating whether to move or not, a warm breeze blew by me from the bush and gently tousled my hair. It seemed to fill me with courage , allowing me to step forward.

I cleared my throat as quietly as possible. "Lady Éowyn, I did not expect to find you, or anyone, in the garden at this late hour."

She lifted her head and looked at me wearily. She indeed had been crying, with her red, sorrowful face but they were fading away to a deep pink. "Nor did I Lord Faramir." She nodded her ascent and I sat next to her on the bench.

I leaned back against the bench and looked up at the sky. "I could not sleep." I admitted , sighing a little, as I rubbed my sore temples to prove it to her. She did not smile.

"Nor could I my Lord." She answered quietly , looking away from me. That pained me so, but I dared not show it even though she wouldn't see it.

I took a breath and closed my eyes taking in the sweet smell of the garden. "These gardens are one of the few things that can calm my nightmares." I stated quietly. "Since I was a child I would wander down here at night and just walk around. When I was very young my mother brought me down here after I'd had my first nightmare. She said that plants were natural dream catchers, that they had the ability to alleviate fear and leave you feeling calm." At that moment, it felt like the flowers, as if they had not already, straightened themselves to full bloom, proudly showing their colored heads.

Éowyn looked at me and tilted her head. "Indeed? I too have always found walking in gardens to be peaceful, tis nice to know why." She paused for a moment and we sat in peaceful silence.

"Did you have a nightmare?" She gently questioned. "Is that why you were walking?"

I nodded. "Yes milady, I had quite a nightmare. I have found it hard to sleep the last few nights."

She nodded her head and leaned back against the bench, looking up at the stars. "I too have been plagued by nightmares." as she spoke I noticed her hand tremble slightly. A sudden inspiration hit me. I quickly arose and turned to the startled Éowyn.

I should be quick about this, I decided. "I shall be back in just a moment milady." I said. I disappeared amid the flora but returned to her within moments.

I sat down on the bench again and handed her a yellow flower. "Rock Rose" I told her as I handed her the yellow flower. "It helps to ease ones troubles, specifically fear." I gently rubbed a sprig of it between my hands. I was carefully not to damage its shape made of velvet-like leaves. "I've always found the smell of it very calming."

She lifted the flower to her face and sniffed it. "Tis a lovely flower." She smiled slightly, "I do feel better." She looked over at me. "Thank you Faramir."

I felt like fainting with ecstasy when she said my name without the word 'Lord'. Beregond would've laughed heartily, but I shuddered to think what Boromir would say after he recovered. Hopefully he would not embarrass me in front of her...

We spent a little while longer sitting on the bench staring at the stars. I pointed out some of my favorite flowers, and she laughed a little more than the previous flower. I thought I would really jump with each twinkling laugh, but I fought against the urge. We eventually decided to leave, when the sun started to rise , its light scaled the tall walls of Gondor and spreads throughout the flowers, allowing them to rise in splendor as they basked in the sunlight.


	43. Plain Answer

I got caught by Nestedrin on my way back to my room. He berated me for staying out so late saying that it was careless and unlike me. Not to mention that in my condition, it could slow in my healing . I apologized and went back to my room, leaving an agitated, and curious Nestedrin in my wake.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I went back out into the garden around noon that day; for it was a warm day and I loved the way the sun felt on my face. Though, I also did not wish to stay in my room. I must admit, I was growing quite worried about my brother, I was beginning to doubt that he should ever awake. Nestedrin claimed that it was normal for one who had been through so much to sleep for so long. But surely there was something the healer could give my brother to help him awaken.

Anyway, I was standing by some Sunflowers, admiring their bright yellow petals. Their smell soothed me somewhat, but it seems as if they're trying to cheer up my dreary disposition, until I heard Nestedrin call for me. For a moment I debated whether or not I could get away with ignoring his call, as I had no wish to take any more poultices or salves, but my sense of duty got the better of me and I went to Nestedrin at the entrance of the garden.

He was not alone.

'My lord,' he said , bowing deeply , 'here is the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. She rode with the king and was sorely hurt, and dwells now in my keeping. But she is not content, and she wishes to speak to the Steward of the City.' And indeed, the beautiful lady Éowyn was by his side, with a look of great surprise on her sad face.

"Faramir? I did not know that you were the Steward." She lowered her eyes and did a slight curtsey, looking terribly embarrassed. This is most humorous to me .

"I am Steward only until my brother awakens milady." I answered , smiling . "What was it you wished to speak to me of? What can the House of Healing do to ease your healing?" I questioned.

"Do not misunderstand him, lord,' Éowyn said quickly. 'It is not lack of care that grieves me. No houses could be fairer, for those who desire to be healed. But I cannot lie in sloth, idle, caged. I looked for death in battle. But I have not died, and battle still goes on." If anyone, I should say that to lock up a horse or a bird in a cage it would be a most grievous crime. Lady Éowyn now looks more lovelier now that I envisioned her a spirited, beauteous creature that longed for freedom from its prison, although Nestedrin would protest being in the care of healers is hardly a prison .

I nodded my understanding to the beautiful woman. I turned my head and gave Nestedrin a pointed look. After a moment he got the hint and departed us , but I fear that I could've blushed a deep red when I caught his slight wink. I dread to know that Beregond had told others...or perhaps I was too obvious.... .

I turned back to Éowyn and smiled. "What would you have me do, lady?' I asked. "For I also am a prisoner of the healers." I looked at her, and felt that her loveliness amid her grief would break my weary heart. She looked at me and made no reply.

'What do you wish?' I asked again. 'If it lies in my power, I will do it.'

'I would have you command this Warden, and bid him let me go,' she said; but though her words were still proud, her voice faltered, and she looked to doubt herself.

'I myself am in the Warden's keeping,' I answered , laughing in the similarity between us . 'Nor have I yet taken up my brother's authority in the City. But had I done so, I should still listen to Nestedrin's counsel, and should not cross his will in matters of his craft, unless in some great need."

"But I do not desire healing,' she said quietly. 'I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died and has both honor and peace."

"It is too late, milady, to follow the Captains, even if we had the strength,' said I. 'But death in battle may come to us all yet, willing or unwilling. You will be better prepared to face it in your own manner, if while there is still time you do as the Healer commanded. You and I, we must endure with patience the hours of waiting." I looked about the garden sadly. How like myself Lady Éowyn was. I wanted nothing more than to join Aragorn in the final fight against Sauron. Yet I knew in my heart that I must stay in this city, that I must protect her till the bitter end.

She did not answer my statement, but as she looked at me it seemed as if something in her softened, as though a bitter frost were yielding at the first faint presage of Spring. A tear sprang in her eye and fell down her cheek, like a glistening rain-drop. Her proud head drooped a little. Then quietly, more as if speaking to herself than to me: 'But the healers would have me lie abed seven days yet,' she said. 'And my window does not look eastward.' Her voice was now that of a maiden young and sad.

I smiled, though my heart was filled with pity and love. 'Your window does not look eastward?' I asked , wondering if I had hinted too much in my tone. She looked slightly uncomfortable, although I half-hoped it to be her recovering wounds, yet at the same time I wish it not. I should ask Beregond how he managed the complications of love, but he'd laugh in my face anyway . 'That can be amended. In this I will command the Warden. If you will stay in this house in his care, milady, and take your rest, then you shall walk in this garden in the sun, as you will; and you shall look east, whither all our hopes have gone. And here you will find me, walking and waiting, and also looking east. It would ease my care, if you would speak to me, or walk at whiles with me." I said the last bit a little faster, as I was fearful that if I didn't say it fast I should never say it.

Then she raised her head and looked me in the eyes again; and color came in her pale face again. 'How should I ease your care, my lord?' she said. 'And I do not desire the speech of living men.'

'Would you have my plain answer?' I said , readying myself. I hope I would not fear what she will say now, for her presence is satisfying enough for me .

'I would.'

"Then, Éowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful. In the valleys of our hills there are flowers fair and bright, and maidens fairer still; but neither flower nor lady have I seen till now in Gondor so lovely, so intelligent, and so sorrowful. It may be that only a few days are left ere darkness falls upon our world, and when it comes I hope to face it steadily; but it would ease my heart, if while the Sun yet shines, I could see you still. For you and I have both seen the shadow.'

Either it was some trick of light, when my eyes could not tell that she made a quick spasm of pity across her face while my heart knew otherwise . 'Alas, not me, lord!' she said, and I felt my heart break at the return to the formal 'lord'. 'Shadow lies on me still. Look not to me for healing! I am a shield maiden and my hand is ungentle. But I thank you for this at least, that I need not keep to my chamber. I will walk abroad by the grace of the Steward of the City.' And she did a courtesy and walked back to the house. I stood in the same spot for a long while. Eventually a breeze blew past me and I moved as if the breeze did so to blow away what hope I have left for love . With a sigh I went back into the House. Why had I even bothered to talk to her? She only loved Aragorn, she would never look at me.


	44. Tour The Town

March 20, 3019:

Somehow I found myself back outside in the garden the next afternoon. I was sitting at the base of an ancient tree, one that I used to read by when I was little. Strangely enough, that was then I realized that it was where most Rock Roses prefer to grow, and I chuckled ruefully at the memory. Meanwhile, I was sketching Éowyn from memory when a voice brought me back to the present.

"You know you're quite good at that, my Lord." I felt myself smile as I looked up into the face of Beregond. He walked around me and sat down by my side , giving a groan to express his past aches . "This is truly a beautiful garden, isn't it Faramir." He said quietly, looking around the garden. He played with a small sprig of Rock Rose, taking a sniff .

"Yes, it is." I answered. I shifted my gaze from the garden and looked at my friend. He was healing very well, and his face looked far less weary than it had when he was in the house of healing. "You are looking better my friend."

He smiled and glanced at me. "And you are not." I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow, and he laughed aloud. What annoyed me was that he didn't response to any kind of pain, so I suppose I should be glad for him as well . "I feel better Faramir, tis wondrous what your loved ones can do to strengthen you."

I turned my head from my friend so that he could not see the sadness in my eyes. I could feel myself falling into a deep pool of thoughts, recalling what caused me to be most miserable . All my loved ones were leaving me. My father had committed suicide, my brother was in a coma, my dearest friends were marching to war, and the lady I was falling for could not stand me. All I had was Beregond and Merry.

Merry, were he? Why had I not asked him to accompany me in the gardens? He was a very dear friend, and was in need of healing far more than I. Plus, it would be nice to have a friend who knows what I have been through, indeed he has gone through most of it with me. Who would better know what it was like to lose all your loved ones better than Merry?

I heard an odd noise and turned my head back to Beregond. He was fast asleep, and snoring like a cave troll. "Rest well my friend." I murmured with a smile . I rose to my feet and slowly slipped away from Beregond , patting him on the shoulder. He gave a snort that sounded much like Gimli; his head tilted the other way .

I walked down the hall of the house of healing, and eventually found Merry in the common room, eating an apple. However, that was not the thing that amused me most. It was the pile of apple cores that lay in the trash that made me chuckle, alerting him of my presence. With one large bite, he ate the rest .

"Master Merry, may I have the honor of your company?" I asked with a slight bow. Merry gave me a wide grin and tossed the core of his apple in the trash.

"Certainly my liege," he answered with a bow , but as he did so, he grabbed another apple from a pile of fresh ones on the ground. I won't deny this: without these dear hobbits, I would've died of boredom . "Might I inquire as to where you would like my company to be?"

I tilted my head as though it were a tough question. "Well," I said as though thinking aloud. "We could wander around here, but Nestedrin would probably send us back to our rooms. We could wander around the garden, but we'll have to be careful not to wake up Bergond, he is quite grouchy when woken up. Or we could wander around the city."

"Ooh!" Merry exclaimed , quickly jumping to his feet . "That sounds like fun! I still haven't gotten a proper tour of anywhere but the House of Healing." He gave me a look as though blaming me for his being locked up in this house. Cocking an eyebrow, I ruffled his hair .

"Don't look at me like that master Merry." I replied. "I shall give you your tour. Where would you like to go?"

He got a big grin that looked much like the splendour of the sunflowers . "Anywhere Faramir!" He exclaimed , dancing on his feet and jumping everywhere. I begin to suspect if Nestedrin merely keeps the hobbit here so that he wouldn't get into mischief. He looks certainly fine to me . "Anywhere that gets me out of this house!"

"Then I know just the place." I looked around to make sure no one was listening to our conversation and then leaned in towards Merry. "Go and grab your cloak, we're about to bust out." He chuckled and ran to fetch his cloak. I turned around intending to get mine also.

Lady Éowyn blocked my path. She had her hand on her hip and was wearing a fierce scowl.

"Just where do you think you are going Lord Faramir?" She questioned. I frowned and crossed my arms , imitating her .

"I am taking master Merry on a tour Lady Éowyn." I emphasized the lady, hoping that she would get the idea that I hate being called Lord, or liege, or sire, or any title for that matter.

She gave me a hard stare and looked me straight in the eyes. "You are not going anywhere without me. I have been cooped up in this house just as long as you and Merry, and I too have been denied my tour." She looked at me with a slight smile. "Please won't you let me come? I so wish to escape this house!" She was fairly near begging. I looked around to be sure no one had heard her exclamation before returning my attention to her.

"Milady,"

"Éowyn" She corrected.

"Éowyn, you are more than welcome to join us. So long as you realize, and accept, that we shall be returning to this house before nightfall."

"A small reprieve is all that I ask My lord."

"Faramir." I said sternly. She smiled shyly and nodded her acceptance.


	45. The Citadel

I took them everywhere. I took them up to the citadel and started the tour with the Tower of Ecthelion. In the Tower Hall was the throne of the King of Gondor upon a dais, and at the foot the dais on the lowest step was a black chair where the Steward of Gondor sat. There was a chamber high in the Tower. I didn't stay in this tower for long; the memories of my father were still far too recent and painful. The room also reminded me of Aragorn, and the fact that he may now never get the chance to claim his rightful place on its throne. But when Merry got excited upon seeing it, he brandished an imaginary sword and attack the three trolls that he claimed a certain Bilbo Baggins had encountered one time. I had to laugh when he said that Bilbo who is Frodo's dear uncle managed to stall them long enough for the sun to shine upon them, turning to stone. Then to my surprise, he somehow got Éowyn to fight a little with him. I studied her movement, and knew that there was no doubt that she and Merry were the ones who vanquished the Witchking of Angmar.

Suddenly it was as if I was overthrown by a tidal wave of realization. I had completely forgotten that the two were afflicted with the dreaded black breath. Yet with one look at their jubilant faces and buoyant feelings, how could that be? Éowyn, after acting out a few battle cries and 'cuts', she laughed with an 'enough' and begged me to let them go somewhere else. I was relieved that my anxious feelings were washed away. I then took them to the Tower Hall of Feast; needless to say this was Merry's favorite spot. I daresay I remember that he downed several pints of mead while dancing with Pippin. I then took them back out to the courtyard and showed them the Court of the Fountain and The White Tree. Once they had seen the entire Citadel, I took them to the stables. Where, for the first time, I got to see Éowyn smile for real.

She quietly walked up to the nearest horse and laid her hand upon its mane.

"Mára aurë neth min." She murmured softly. She walked to the front of the horse and gently rubbed its nose. She murmured something else in Rohirric, but I couldn't quite make it out. If I didn't know any better, it was just as gentle and elegant as the Elvish language, but none would compare with the beauty of my lady. After a moment, she scratched the horse's nose and walked to the next horse.

Upon touching the horse's nose, she gasped and then giggled like a young maiden.

"Faramir, this mare is pregnant!" She exclaimed with such innocent joy that I thought I should burst from the delight of seeing her so happy.

"Indeed?" Merry asked, surprised. He circled around the mare, looking everywhere for signs but I doubt he had much experiences with horses. But I'm not one to judge, since I caught myself looking for at least a swollen belly. Merry clasped his hands on the flank but was disappointed when it was not warmer than usual. I ruffled his hair for his attempt. "How can you tell? She doesn't look it." Éowyn smiled at him and turned her head towards the hobbit.

"I can feel it." She said, and continued her explanation when she saw his confusion. "Rohirrim can sense what a horse feel's, and the horse can sense our feeling's in return. That is why we become so attached to our horses. With the rare, purebred Maeras, we can even sense their actual thoughts. So I can tell she's pregnant because she knows she's pregnant." Éowyn finished and rubbed the mare's nose. I signalled the stable boy and had him lead the mare to the nursery stable.

"Which horse is yours Faramir?" Éowyn asked me. I smiled and slowly walked to my beautiful mare. She was a purebred stallion, a deep brown color with an auburn mane. The dawning sunlight gave much more effect that is striking as it moved towards her body, and she flicked her head towards me as she ate some fresh hay.

"This is my horse, Fëarulissë." I said, gently stroking her back. Éowyn gave me a shy smile and walked up to the horse.

"May I?" She asked me with her hand outstretched.

"Feel free to commune with any horse in this stable Éowyn, including my own."

She smiled shyly at me and started to pet Fëarulissë with her hand. The mare gave a curious snort, pushing against Éowyn's hand to encourage her to reach further areas. To the maiden's delight, Fëarulissë gave a soft neigh to show that she enjoyed the treatment.

"Oh Faramir," She said with a lovely smile. I almost thought that Beregond was right here right now, teasing Éowyn and I, about how I would've really fainted just by being near her, let alone see her smile. The thought of that is terrifying. "This horse really loves you!" She gave me a brilliant smile and continued to stroke her. Merry took the opportunity to dash past me – I was slightly bewildered – and got to touch her mane. "She was not always your horse, was she?"

I looked back in my memories and found what I was looking for. "No, she used to belong to another when she was but a foal. I know nothing of him."

"I believe he mistreated her." Éowyn said softly, while faint tears formed in her gray eyes. I was slightly shocked to see how deeply connected the Rohirrim are with their horses but I felt no way to make her feel better without making it look awkward. As a desperate attempt, all I could think of was to look at Merry's reaction, but he was braiding Fëarulissë's hair into elegant strands. Éowyn however talked further. "She sees you as her rescuer, Faramir." She took a breath and wiped away her tears with the back of her good hand. I smiled at her and lovingly rubbed Fëarulissë's ear.

We spent another hour in the stable, before we had to head back to the house of healing because it was getting dark. Merry protested immediately, but Éowyn convinced him otherwise – with my help – that the kitchen may be preparing for a midnight snack for a certain hobbit. We finally arrived at the House as the last rays of the sun died behind the Tower of Ecthelion. Merry went to the kitchen immediately, and I wanted to check on Boromir, but I sensed Éowyn wanted to say something.

We stood in front of the common rooms fire in an awkward silence for a moment before Éowyn finally spoke.

"Thank you Faramir," She said quietly, her eyes still on the fire. It was as if they performed alluring dances to nudge me to say something. Their delicate flame tendrils licked at the air, warming the room. I suspect that someone threw in some scent herbs in there just before we entered the House. "Thank you for taking me from this house and letting me see the horses."

''Twas my pleasure Éowyn," I paused for a moment to gather my courage. "Perhaps we could do something tomorrow also?"

She stared at the fire in silence for a moment and then looked at me with a small smile.

"I would like that."

_A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post these, my beta reader and I were having timing issues... For any one who is curious Mára aurë neth min=Hello young one and Fëarulissë=Winds Grace, Pronounced: Fay-a-rhoo-lees-ay_


	46. To Laugh

A/N: Thanks to Sapphire for beta reading this!

**March 22, 3019:**

I cannot sleep. All night I tossed and turned in my bed. I still see my father when I close my eyes , with that dark, despairing look filled with madness. They soon turn to flames, consuming him before I could do anything. Shall I never again know the sweet peace of sleep? Not even staring at darkness for a mere fraction before the sun's rays bade me to wake? Oh what I would give for just an hour's rest. That is all I would ask. Is it too much? I combed through my hair with tired, tired fingers, lacking the strength and incentive to accomplish anything. Even holding a sword seems useless to me. I peeked towards Boromir, he seems well rested, and I envy him. What dreams lulled him so easily to sleep, that I might be fortunate to pluck a few fragments and place them in my head?

Alas, my moaning is gaining me nothing. The sun has finally risen , its golden rays sweeping over my restless body. I at least straightened myself up and gave a sigh; I believe I shall see if my friends are up.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I had to await two hours before I saw either of them. Merry arose first. He was pale and looked as though he two had not slept well as well. I embraced him when I found him and together we went out to the garden. It was quite in the early hours, as we were the only two in it. We walked around for awhile in silence , beholding the beauty before us. Every so often he would come across an unfamiliar flower and question me about it. I had never realized how vast my floral knowledge was till I had met Merry and Éowyn.

We were on our second loop around the garden when we found Éowyn by the east wall. She was leaning against it, looking out at the field. Her hands were crossed over her chest and she looked as though she had been crying. Her golden hair was hanging in loose windblown ringlets around her shoulders. Her linen sling had recently been changed- the one she had yesterday had been stained by a horses over excited nuzzle. In all ways she looked truly beautiful, and sad. I suddenly knew why I had met lady Éowyn. I was going to make her laugh. It sounded silly, but I truly believed that Éowyn would have the most glorious laugh, and I now felt it my duty to let the world hear it.

With my newfound determination I stepped up to the beautiful Éowyn.

"Milady, may we ask your company?" I questioned timidly , bowing slightly.

She lifted her head and turned towards me. She gave me a slight smile and dipped her head. I felt such satisfaction. Beregond should be here to see this. "Only if you give yours in return." I smiled and motioned for her to join us. We walked around the garden for awhile, and then happened upon a bench under a glorious oak tree. Its towering branches were filled with leafy twigs, its shape outlined by the rising Sun. The ancient trunk was rough, but at the same time, gentle to my fingers as I felt its grooves. Moss grew on one side, colouring it with its green over the brown and I was suddenly fascinated by that, just as I am fascinated about Lady Éowyn. Why I am now, I will never know.

"Shall we rest here?" Merry questioned wearily and sunken eyes that revealed the lack of sleep. I nodded my agreement and sat down. Merry sat next to me on my left, and Éowyn sat on my right. I saw that Merry was looking at a patch of blue flowers, when Lady Éowyn was conveniently viewing Rock Roses. We sat in silence for a while observing the beautiful garden when I was startled by a strange sound. Merry was making an odd choking noise and I turned to see what his matter was and I noticed he was trying not to laugh.

I glanced a quick look towards Lady Éowyn, who was equally as curious and surprised. "What on earth are you laughing at?" I questioned , frowning as I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Us!" He snorted out. It came to the point that he was laughing so hard , tears were coming out.

"Pardon me master Merry, but I see nothing funny about us." I answered feigning insult. I was honestly just puzzled what on earth had he found so funny about us. Amidst splendorous and magnificent scenery, we were quite a sombre crowd before Merry interrupted it.

He took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down a little. He looked up at me with a huge grin and teary eyes. His arms shot above his head in incredulity and laughter. "Just look at us Faramir! Just a few weeks ago we were walking all the way across Middle Earth!"

I tilted my head in confusion.

"I'm afraid I'm not following, Merry." Éowyn said beside me. I was glad to know I wasn't the only confused one. "What about us walking across Middle Earth?" Her lovely voice rang in my head. I hope it never ends.

He took another breath and smiled apologetically at us. "I'm sorry, it's just that, we were walking all across Middle Earth, and now we can't even walk across a garden!" He bent his head and clutched his stomach as he broke into another fit of giggles.

So that's why. I felt myself smiling at his apparent glee. We did make quite a sight. "We do make quite a group, don't we?" I said with a smile, and I began to quietly laugh. Merry rose from the bench and turned to face us , arms spread out in dramatic theatrics.

"Here we are, introducing Middle Earth's finest warriors, Merry Brandybuck of the Shire, Faramir of Gondor, and Éowyn of Rohan! We can fight any monster; just don't ask us to run!" And with that he was on the ground in hysterics. I tried to remain composed but Merry did me in. I found myself laughing and crying for the joy of it. I had forgotten what it was like to laugh like that.

I wasn't the only one. By my side I felt Éowyn shaking. I turned my head to make sure that she was alright and found that she was trying not to laugh. She, like me failed, and I finally got to hear her laugh. It was everything I imagined. A loud clear melodic laugh that sounded as though joy itself had been put to music resided in her. The clarity and volume of her voice echoed in the garden, and the flowers as it seems, were brushed past by the majestic sound.

I didn't complain, but because Merry and Éowyn insisted, we stayed in the garden for the rest of the day, laughing and healing little by little.


	47. Night Sketches

March 24, 3019:

Yesterday and today passed by with very little activity, I spent most of my time talking to various captains and soldiers on how they could best protect the city should Aragorn fail. Many had told me how regretful they were in not joining in the final battle at Mordor, that cursed land. Frankly, I told them that I am no different from them, but was it not for my injuries at first; it is most likely that I may be dead. They have objected to my skill, and there were many I spoke with, yet when I praised their skill, they were humble as they claimed me to be. Yet I am glad for that. I would not want Gondor's paths to be filled with arrogant men, even if they possess some great strength in the sword.

Many are worried about the outcome of the final battle, they said. Failure was the word that mostly came from their lips, and it would mean so much more than a mere lost battle. It would truly mean the end of all our hope. For what hope could we possible have of defending this city? Half of our numbers are gravely ill, injured, or maimed. The other half are made of men who have seen too many or too few winters. So they all remained in here, with few that managed to come out with less than four scars to remember.

Alas, this despair is getting me know where. I must think more positively and an insisting urge wants to get some fresh air. I believe I shall go out into the garden, despite how late it is.

{}-{}-{}-{}

I went out into the garden intending to sketch and rest. I sat down at the foot of my favorite tree and began to work on a picture of the fellowship. It took me a while to plan who's sitting where, and who's standing where. Gandalf at least should be standing, with that tall wizard's hat and his proud, ancient staff. Aragorn of course should be standing as well, his shining sword by his side. Legolas is no lesser than he with that bow, nor is Gimli and his sturdy axe. The hobbits as well, standing as tall as children should not be sitting at all...perhaps none of them should sit.

I had been sitting out in the dark for nearly an hour, with nothing but a candle for light, when I heard a twig snap somewhere behind the tree I was sketching on. I sat still for a moment; unsure of whom it was that was walking around in the garden at so late an hour. It was not the rustling of my paper, so I sat still and stiff for a moment, before I caught a familiar scent on the wind. It was the smell of horses, soap, and rock rose.

It was the scent of Lady Éowyn.

I took a calming breath, cleared my throat a little and gathered my voice. "Milady, would you care to join me?"

I heard a faint gasp of surprise and then a few more twigs snapped. I had my head bent over my sketch, attempting to not look to eager to see the Lady when she stepped around the tree. "I was unaware that anyone else would be in the garden at this late hour." She said softly.

I lifted my head from my painting and caught my breath in surprise. Éowyn was in her nightgown. It was very long, it reached her feet, it was of a white silk, and almost looked to glow from the pale moonlight. Her beautiful golden hair was splayed about her shoulders in soft curls. Never had I seen her look so beautiful. Was it a dream? I caught myself debating whether she looked more beautiful in the sunlight or the moonlight.

After a moment I realized I was staring at her and I quickly lowered my eyes back to my sketch. I took a breath, "I-I enjoy sketching at this time, it, it manages to calm my mind." I somehow managed to stutter out. My breath hitched once again when I felt her gently lower herself next to me. She leaned over my arm and studied my sketch book. She lifted her head and looked at me questioningly

"May I?" She asked with her hand on the edge of my book. I nodded my consent and handed her my book. She smiled at me and set it in her lap. I licked my lips anxiously as she started to thumb through my pictures , gently flipping through the pages. She stopped every once and awhile to study a picture. As I watched the pictures flip by I looked at each picture anew. Whenever she came across a sketch of someone she didn't know she would ask me who they were and I would explain who they were, and what story I had drawn them in. She laughed at some of the ones of my brother and I, and smiled sympathetically at the pictures of my mother. Her hand faltered when she reached a sketch of Théoden and Éomer, and I saw a slight tear form in her eye. She took a breath and flipped the page to a picture of her. For an instant I saw her hand shake and a slight flush rise in her cheeks. She quickly continued to the next picture. She came at last to my picture of the fellowship and smiled. "These are very good Faramir." She lifted her head and looked at me with a small smile. "You have quite a talent."

I smiled and was about to thank her when a chilling breeze came by. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Struck by a sudden inspiration I jumped up from tree and told Éowyn I would quickly return. After a moments searching I found what I sought and returned to Éowyn outside. I walked around the tree and saw Éowyn looking at the picture of Théoden and Éomer, she was crying softly. I lowered myself gently beside her, feeling a pang of guilt in my heart. Although it is night time, I hoped that she won't see me flushing from that feeling. I had made her cry, me and my stupid sketches.

She shut the book and turned her head, attempting to hide her tears from me. I reached out and gently put a hand against her cold cheek.

"Éowyn, do not turn from me." I whispered to her. "I know what it is to feel sad." She turned her head and I could see her tear stained eyes.

"Does it never end?" She asked as she wiped her teary eyes. "Does the pain of loss never cease?"

I leant my head back and closed my eyes. "I don't know Éowyn, though I honestly hope it doesn't." I opened my eyes and tilted my head towards her. "I fear that if the pain goes away I shall forget them, and that thought scares me more than anything else."

She nodded her head in understanding. "I too fear that Faramir." She turned her head and looked back at the garden. As she shifted I noticed her shivering again. I gave myself a mental shake and continued with the mission that had caused me to leave.

"Éowyn, I-I brought you something." I mumbled stupidly. I handed her a mantle of deep blue, the color of a deep summer-night, and it was set with silver stars around the hem and throat. It had been my mother's, and it always helped to drive away my sorrows and fears.

She gently ran her hand long the silver stars, and then felt the blue silk lining. "Tis a beautiful mantle Faramir." She lifted her head and smiled at me. "Thank you for this gift." She then leaned over and gave me a gentle hug. I felt that my night – nay, my life has been complete and wishes for this never to end.

"FARAMIR!" A angry voice called out. I jumped, in a surprise and turned my body to see who was so mad at me.

It was Nestedrin.

"Faramir! What are you doing out at this late hour?!" He exclaimed as he crossed to the front of the tree. I thought that if I were not the one he was yelling at, it would look funny to see him in his nightgown. He looked annoyed and worried, but then he beheld Lady Éowyn. "And you too!" He cried out indignantly. "Faramir, you ought be ashamed for keeping the lady out so late!" Then he grabbed Éowyn's arm before she could protest about her well being and led her inside with a huff. I followed Nestedrin inside with a soft chuckle.


	48. Darkness Unending

March 25, 3019:

I went back out the garden at around noon. I was alone for about an hour before I was joined by Éowyn.

She wore a white dress beneath the starry mantle, and her fair hair was billowing in the rough wind. She came up beside me and looked northward, above the grey lands, into the eye of the very cold wind that blew her beautiful hair.

"What do you look for, Éowyn?" I asked simply.

'Does not the Black Gate lie yonder?' she asked , her voice near me but her mind far away. 'And must they not now be there? It is seven days since they rode away.'

'Seven days,' I said sadly. Then, in a bold moment I continued: 'But think not ill of me, if I say to you: they have brought me both a joy and a pain that I never thought to know. Joy to see you; but pain, because now the fear and doubt of this evil time are grown dark indeed. Éowyn, I would not have this world end now, or lose so soon what I have found.'

'Lose what you have found, lord?' she answered; but she looked at me gravely and her eyes were kind. 'I know not what in these days you have found that you could lose. But come, my friend, let us not speak of it! Let us not speak at all! I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but whether there is any light behind me I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom.'

'Yes, we wait for the stroke of doom,' I said. And then we said no more; and it seemed that as we stood upon the wall that the wind died, and the light failed, and the Sun was bleared, and all sounds in the City or in the lands about were hushed: neither wind, nor voice, nor bird-call, nor rustle of leaf, nor their own breath could be heard; the very beating of my heart was stilled. Time halted. What a feeling it is.

We waited on that wall for an hour, for I know not what. Then presently it seemed to that above the ridges of the distant mountains another vast mountain of darkness rose, towering up like a wave that should engulf the world, and about it, lightning flickered; and then a tremor ran through the earth, and I felt the walls of the City quiver. A sound like a sigh went up from all the lands about them; and my heart beat quickly.

'It reminds me of Númenor,' I murmured in awe.

'Of Númenor?' said Éowyn, her tone were the curious of the curious.

'Yes,' I explained, 'of the land of Westernesse that foundered and of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills, and coming on, darkness inescapable. I often dream of it.'

'Then you think that the Darkness is coming?' said Éowyn. 'Darkness Inescapable?' And suddenly she drew closer to me, a feeling I quite enjoyed.

'No,' I answered, looking into her face. 'It was but a picture in the mind. I do not know what is happening. The reason of my waking mind tells me that great evil has befallen and we stand at the end of days. But my heart says nay; and all my limbs are light, and a hope and joy are come to me that no reason can deny. Éowyn, Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, in this hour I do not believe that any darkness will endure!' And I did something that I will never know how I found the courage to do, I kissed her head.

As I kissed her head, a great wind rose and blew, and blew our hair, raven and golden, so that it mingled in the air. And the Shadow departed, and the Sun was unveiled, and light leaped forth; and the waters of Anduin shone like silver. Their peaceful waves caressed the dancing sparks that drove away the darkness to make way for a joyful scene.

We stood on that wall for another hour or so. We talked about our customs in Gondor, and she spoke that of Rohan. Their ways are most intriguing, and she showed no concealing of her interest when it came to knowing about the White City. Eventually my stomach started to growl, which caused us to both go and look for a snack. I decided that I would take Éowyn to my favorite spot, a bread shop on the lower level. (he bakery was most known for its delightful smells and soft bread.

We had wandered down to the shops level when I heard a familiar, terrifying noise. It sounded that of a wretched creature from the depths of some dark, forgotten place where no green grows. I thrust Éowyn behind me and raised my arms to defend myself.

An Uruk-hai had just shown itself.


	49. Dark Night

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire for beta reading this!_

I readied my legs in battle stance, one my brother had taught me. I took a breath and my instincts took over. The Uruk-hai charged me and I thrust out my arm to strike its chest. That grotesque warrior, reeking of terror and horror as he thumped his swift, stout legs upon the white paths would've made anyone hurl from disgust. As he ran into me I noted that he was luckily unarmed. My strike did little to harm him and within a second he was on top of me. He pummeled my chest with hits so that I could not breathe. With grunts and then soon with yells of triumphs he then went after my arms with his sharp claw-like nails. I vainly raised my hands up to stop him but accomplished little. Muttering a curse that I never heard of but still has that vile effect, he finally went for my neck and began to choke me. I kicked out at him and struck his chest in desperation but I was failing, and starting to fade. Then, a part of my brain that somehow was still operating registered a single noise- Lady Éowyn was screaming my name in utter horror.

In that instant, I was overwhelmed with a sense of urgency. I simply could not fail. For no other reason than that, I must protect Éowyn.

With my new found drive, I lifted my weary arms once more and went after the ugly Uruk-hai's eyes. I struck out against him and hit him squarely in his bulbous red eye. He gave a growl of pain and anger and loosened his hold against my neck. I took a deep breath and struck him with renewed vigor. He pushed me to the ground, on top of me, his enormous weight threatened to crush me. I gripped his side and rolled over so that I was on top as he pummeled my side. He rolled me back over and I gave a cry as I felt a searing pain fill my side. I moved my arm to grab at the object that was injuring me and found it to be a sharp rock. I jerked the rock out of my side while hitting the Uruk-hai with my other hand and biting against the intense pain, I stabbed the foul beast. He convulsed for a moment and let out a terrible sound, and then he was still.

I thrust the broken body off of myself and stood up shakily. I gripped my bleeding side, sucking in a painful breath as I teetered dangerously. I know not whether if it is true or not, but the smell of the freshly made corpse had gone to my head. My nose wrinkled from the repulsive smell. My head was pounding awfully as my vision started to dim. I tried to call Éowyn but my world faded to black before I could muster the strength.

I awoke on a soft bed with a light cotton blanket resting on my chest. It felt so nice just laying there that I didn't want to open my eyes and face the dark world. I remembered what happened and to my unintended surprise and pleasure, I smell nothing but the purity of the air, devoid of pungent rank. That soothed me to the point where my head wished for more rest.

But something in my mind told me to stay awake. As if to prove its point, a soft noise sounded, "Faramir..." the deep voice murmured at my side.

My eyes shot open and I sat up quickly before falling again from the pain in my side and head. Ignoring my now screaming wounds as well as I could, I rolled onto my side so that I could see the face of the man who had called out to me.

Boromir's beautiful eyes were open. I nearly fell out of my bed at this shock. He was terribly pale and had a faraway look in his eye. I once again raised myself up. Then slowly I climbed out of the comfortable bed. I took a timid step forward fighting the nausea my dizzy head was giving me. Slowly raising my heavy arms, I reached for my brother's forehead, filled with alarming caution. No sooner had I touched him than I ripped my hand back. He was burning up!

"Nestedrin!" I called out fearfully, shocked by how hoarse I sounded. Nestedrin bursts in to the room with flurry of movement.

"What are you doing out of – Dear Valar!" He exclaimed upon seeing my brother.

He rushed over to him as I set heavily down on my bed in despair. Suddenly my brother went rigid, and then he started to convulse horridly. He made a strange gagging, wretched noise that indicated no other sign than a man near death. I cried out in terror and leapt over to him, oblivious to any pain.

"Faramir! Hold your brother down! I'm going to go get help!" Nestedrin shouted, and then he was gone. I gripped my brother's broad shoulders and tried to hold him down. It was like he was fighting Orcs in his dreams – nay, nightmares for he gave quite a fight and I was no fool to see that he was giving it his all.

He gave one last great jolt and then he was frightfully still.

I was forcefully pushed aside by Nestedrin, who had returned without my knowledge. I tried to get next to my brother but was pushed farther away by the healers that were now surrounding him. A healer, I know not who, pushed me outside and then shut the door and within it were murmuring, anxious voices hovering above my one, and only brother. I leaned against the now shut, wooden door as my vision swam. Panic started to overtake me as I fell to my knees. A roar filled my ears and I couldn't breathe as my chest started to feel tight. My heart started to beat erratically and my vision went out. I couldn't' make any sound I was so overcome with fear and pain. My mind kept going over one thought-Boromir, I couldn't lose him! Not here, not now! I began to fear I should never be rid of that terrible panic, fear, and pain that had so completely overtaken me.

I slowly became aware of a hand on my back and a voice trying to soothe me. I smelled something sweet and my vision slowly returned, as well as my hearing. My heart started to even out and my chest loosened so I found my breath returning. But my head was still spinning, yet even the pace was slowing down. How comforting that feels, as if one gone out in a great trek and found rest.

"Breath Mir, Just breath." The soft voice of Beregond washed over me and I felt myself start to relax. Tears flowed from my eyes as I felt the panic and pain start to subside. Hot tears seemed to be scalding me with my aching head, but they cooled down as quickly as they came.

"That's right Miri. Just keep breathing."

"Boromir." I managed to whimper. I had no idea how weak I was, nor how serious my injuries were. At this moment, my mind only had Boromir and Beregond.

"Ssh," he said as he pulled me into an embrace. He had that natural feel of a father hugging his child. Instantly a painful memory of my deceased, crazed father raised but I pushed it out. Petty things will not bother me while my brother is recovering. "He'll be alright. You had a panic attack. Everything is going to be fine." He stroked my back while he spoke and I had to fight a fresh wave of stinging tears.

"Thank you." I whispered hoarsely. He released me slowly. I leaned back and studied his face. He looked sad , no doubt worried about my brother and I.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled lowering my head.

He gave a soft chuckle. "You've nothing to be sorry for." He said as he helped me stand. I tottered a little but his hand caught me and helped me straighten. "Tis not an easy thing watching one we love in pain."

That image of Boromir's frozen face was burning as hot as my tears in mind. Why will it not go? Where are those memories I so cherished when times were too dark for me, that I call upon them to shield and relieve me? "I thought he was dying."

"I think he was." Seeing my alarmed look, he quickly continued. "You saved him – you caught him before it became overly serious."

Nestedrin suddenly came out and looked at me with a gentle look.

"Come Faramir, your brother is asleep. I think you should be by his side when he awakens." he tilted his head and looked at me with an insightful gaze. "That's twice you've saved him now." I smiled wetly, unable to think of a response.


	50. My Heart

_A/N: Thanks Sapphire for beta reading this!_

March 26, 3019

A sense of dread nearly overwhelmed me as I watched my brother. It chilled my spine like a cold breeze crept in, purposely aiming its invisible air at me. Why on earth should I feel so frightened? My brother would make it. Indeed, he should awake at any moment. Why should I have this sense of urgency?

Éowyn.

The name hit me like a sledgehammer. In an instant I was hit by a feeling of terror, and all the memories of that terrible vision. I leapt from my seat and ran from the room as though Sauron himself were after me. I ran for the wall I had seen in my vision for all I was worth. I ran so hard my body was practically screaming its pain at me, but I took no notice of it. My mind was completely absorbed with one thought. Éowyn. I had to make it in time; I simply could not bear the thought of what would happen if I didn't.

I had reached the garden now. I ran with renewed vigor, forcing myself to ignore the pain and focusing only on reaching Éowyn, whose image glowed within me as brightly as the sun. I finally gained sight of the wall and nearly passed out from what I saw.

Éowyn was standing on the wall with her hands clutched against her chest.

I forced myself to run, screaming her name as I ran. She lifted her head and I noticed her face was streaked with tears. I ran to the wall and leapt up on it, nearly falling off of it in the process. I walked as quickly as I could to her without falling over. She still hadn't opened her eyes, and her hands still clutched against her chest.

"Éowyn" I mumbled numbly. She was refusing to turn towards me. I timidly reached out and touched her arm.

She jerked her arm away from my touch. "Get away from me!" She turned around and faced me, enraged and terrified. "I know what you are! You are not what you appear. The one I love is not here! He is lying on a bed in that accursed house dying! Dying because of me!" She cried out. I looked at her in utter shock. Dying? Who on earth was dying?!

I grabbed her shoulders to keep her from backing up; we were dangerously near the edge of the wall. "Éowyn," I said softly, carefully choosing my words because my wounds were threatening to ruin the situation. "Please, please tell me what you are talking about."

She finally opened her eyes, and as the tears streamed downed her face, she glared at me.

"Leave me alone, snake." She hissed dangerously. Her perilous tone and voice were like a knife stabbing at me, where it no better healed my wounds than poison itself. "Do you think I shall continue living under your spell? To long have I walked in your shadow." She turned her head and stared out at Pelennor field. "No, I shall it end it here and now." Then with a burst of effort, she wrenched herself from my grasp and turned, making to jump. In a last desperate attempt, I wrapped my arms around her waist and fell backwards on to the soft garden mere feet below.

Éowyn screamed with rage as I pulled her down from the wall. "Why will you not let me end it?" She yelled at me, struggling against my weakening arms with all her might. Her infuriation was like Boromir's when he fought against his illness, but I should not be the one she would fight against! "Why should you torture me so? Let me go so that I can finish it!" As she spoke, she turned around so that she was facing me while on top of me and started to hit me.

"Do not this evil deed Éowyn!" I cried out as she continued to pound me. Indeed they do hurt, but her words washed everything away with an overflowing torrent of struck emotions. "For in killing yourself you shall not only destroy the most beautiful woman to ever walk this fair world, but you shall also destroy what is left of my weary heart." I clutched her body against mine with what little strength I had left. As I held her near me I finally just let my tears fall. "Why do you hate living so much Éowyn?" I questioned sadly, trying not to raise my voice not in anger, but in shock. "Am I so terrible that you cannot bear to be loved by me?" She slowly lifted her head and looked at my face. "If I am the cause of your wish to commit suicide then I shall leave this house, I shall leave this very land!" She closed her eyes against her tears and shook her head.

Her voice contained no more fury but sorrow. "This is nothing more than a dream. All that I love is lost."

I shook my head desperately. "No, Éowyn, not all."

She raised her eyes and looked at me coldly. "I do not desire your pity."

"Tis not my pity I would give you my fair lady." I answered simply.

"No you would give me only death." She said quietly.

"Death? Ney milady, I would give you my heart Éowyn. Nothing less than my very heart, to do whatever you pleased with." I felt more tears slip down my cheeks as I continued. "Do you not know Éowyn? Since I first beheld you my heart has beat only for you. Despite the despair this last week has brought me I would not trade it for anything, for fear of losing what I have finally understood."

"And what do you understand?" She asked bitingly.

I felt myself cringe at her tone. I hesitated for only a moment before answering her. "The truth of my heart Éowyn. I love you; I love you so desperately that I fear it shall break my heart. I love you so desperately that if you should ask it I would jump of this wall. Were you a great queen, or a hungry beggar I should love you. Éowyn of Rohan, do you not love me?"

She lifted her head to the sky and cried for all that she was worth. I could swear that – nay, the new tears that streaked down her face were glistening with the sun's light. They sparkle like tiny stars. "Oh Faramir, how I love you! Would that you were not some illusion! Would that you were not dying on that bed!"

I had finally reached the end of my rope. For some unknown reason I was not getting across to her. She could not accept that I was here. "I'm right here Éowyn! Can you not feel my beating heart!" I cried out for all I was worth.

"What cruel fate is this?" She cried , turning quickly from me. "Why should the Valar wish to torment me so?! I should jump and be rid of this shadow."

I unthinkingly tightened my grip on her arms. "Did you not hear me Éowyn? I love you. Jump not, you would only destroy me!"

"You are not real! You cannot be real!" She was not even trying to stop the streams of tears that flowed from her eyes. How could she have some endless supply of sadness that fed her tears, allowing them to reveal themselves to me?

"Why should I not be real Éowyn? Why should I not be here?" I exclaimed flabbergasted.

She looked at me hard, and then timidly raised her arm, which I released, to touch my face. "Is it truly you?" Lady Éowyn asked, her voice that told me she could scarcely hope the truth. I now realized my pain has truly subsided with her calming voice, that beautiful, melodious voice.

I felt a smile in spite of myself. "Yes Éowyn, it is me."

Her eyes glistened, where the tears have finally stopped. "But, you are supposed to be dying!"

Where it some other person, I would've laughed. Right now, I do not know how to respond properly but once again, my shocked expression prevailed. "Why!" I exclaimed.

"Nestedrin told Merry that the Steward of Gondor was dying!"

And it all clicked. Éowyn thought I was in my brother's position. She had last seen me when I was being attended to after the Uruk-hai's attack. She had no idea that Nestedrin had been speaking of Boromir, after all, he had introduce me to her as the Steward of Gondor.

"Oh Éowyn" I murmured, my voice filled with compassion. I now know that her nightmare, and hopefully mine will soon cease as well. "Twas my brother he was talking about. Not me, I am only Steward in his place."

Realization dawned on her face.


	51. Timing

A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the great reviews guys! I can't believe I have already reached 50 chapters, and over a 100 reviews! As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading.

As I saw her face light up with realization I did something that surprised even me. I leaned up and kissed her beautiful tear stained lips. She went rigid for a moment but then moaned and relaxed on top of me, deepening our kiss in the process. I reached up and put my hand in her hair and stroked her soft cheek with my other. After a moment we had to end the kiss for air – as we both still had weak lungs, something I would most definitely be working on fixing now.

"It is true then?" She mumbled staring at me awestruck. I smiled beneath her and slowly sat up repositioning her so that she was sitting on my lap instead of lying on top of me – I didn't even want to think about what Nestedrin would have said had he seen us in that position.

I leaned my head against her neck and breathed in her wonderful scent. Strangely enough, it reminded me of Rock Rose, and her hair was thick with the smell. How wonderful it is. "Is what true, my love?" I whispered against her hair, marvelling at the softness and light that reflects upon the strands.

"That you love me?" She questioned softly, ever so hopeful. I leaned my head back and laughed; I really couldn't help myself. I had practically threatened to jump of this building with her because of how desperately I was in love with her, and she was still not fully getting it. A ludicrous thought of me stabbing myself may have told her to what length I love Lady Éowyn.

"Vanmelda," I whispered with all the passion that was springing from me. "Never have I felt so strongly for someone." I leaned back and gently touched her cheek. "Éowyn, I love you heart and soul. If you should have asked it of me I would have jumped of the wall to save you from doing it."

She raised her hand and brushed my hair back from my face. "Faramir." She said with a fulfilled smile. She gave a choking laugh as she began to cry again. I was momentarily alarmed by this fact but then realized she was smiling through her tears. "Oh my Faramir." She stroked my cheek and leaned into my neck as she spoke, and I felt a thrill of excitement run through my body. I smiled manically as my own tears wet her hair. We held each other for a moment, marvelling at the newfound love.

I felt Éowyn tense against me as she leaned back to look me in the eyes. She took a small breath and smiled nervously. "I love you too Faramir. I was blind not to have seen it before." My heart stopped beating for a moment as I looked at her face, inches from my own. I slowly moved closer to her, my eyes on her beautiful lips. I paused just before I reached them and took a breath; I then closed the distance between us and lost myself in sweet bliss. We broke apart moments later, gasping for breath. I caught mine first but nearly lost it again as I remembered the reason I had been unable to have Éowyn's love before. I lowered my head in sadness as I thought about the way she had loved Aragorn. Surely there was no hope that she could love me more than she had loved him. This realization had hit me harder than that Orc. It was thousand times stronger.

"Faramir, why do you hide your face?" Éowyn's serene voice washed over me and I had to fight to keep back a sob. My heart urged my mind and speech to be blunt.

"I should not have kissed you, my love." I said simply, and the thought of it was like a dagger to my swirling feelings. Could I lose her again? I am loyal to my Lord but my heart is loyal to Éowyn. Which do I choose?

She tilted her head incredulously. This reaction puzzled me. "Why ever not?"

"I know your heart belongs to another." I lifted my eyes and looked at her beautiful ones. "I know how you love Aragorn."

She looked at me for along moment before pity and understanding softened her gaze. "Oh Faramir." She said as she leaned towards me. "It was but a shadow and a thought that I loved in Aragorn. I loved the idea of being made a queen, and the idea of being safe from Grima. No longer do I desire to be a queen. I should be happy to be a healer. It is you that I love, my Faramir." She looked at me with such love that I knew her words to be true. I studied her beautiful tear stained face and then leaned forward and began to kiss the wet, sparkling tears off her beautiful cheeks.

"What are you doing!?!" A shocked voice cried. I whipped my head up and looked Nestedrin in the eyes.

"Nestedrin!" Éowyn said, her voice was unsure to be surprised or to laugh.

Of all things that are to happen, I could not believe this. "By the Valar, you simply must have the world's worst timing!" I exclaimed with revealed frustration. He flushed scarlet and turned his head while I helped Éowyn up. I brushed off her shoulders and smoothed her hair while she did the same for me. Once satisfied with our appearance I turned back to Nestedrin , who waited with little patience. "Now what did you want?" I said, trying to not sound to annoyed as my last outburst.

Nestedrin looked at me and gave a small huff of indignation. "I wanted to see why you weren't with your brother." He looked at me for a moment then smiled slightly. "But it seems you had a good reason to leave his side."

My face burned deeper than the color of red in shame at his words. I had completely forgotten Boromir! The thought of him battling his illness suddenly to what he could be now was emerging in my mind again, but this time sharing halves with Éowyn. Nestedrin studied me closely and my expression must have told him that he understood anyway. I looked at Éowyn and silently asked her if she would care to join me by Boromir's side. She smiled and nodded her fair head. I turned back to Nestedrin and smiled. "Let's go see if we can wake him up. I think he's been asleep long enough."

"Indeed." Nestedrin said with a coy smile. "Indeed."

"Vanmelda means 'beautiful beloved'"


	52. Awakening

_A/N: Thanks Sapphire for beta reading this!_

I sat down at my brother's side again with Éowyn by my side. She had her arm wound around mine with our fingers intertwined. Had I not known that I probably would pass out from the pain, I would have done a back flip because I was so ecstatic. My brother was getting better before my eyes, and Éowyn loved me. She even proved it to me, and that made me all the happier. If I also knew that Aragorn, Frodo, Sam and the rest of the army is safe then I doubt that I should ever be sad again.

"Faramir..." Éowyn murmured in her soft melodic voice. I looked over at her fair face and raised my eyebrows in question. She smiled softly and gripped my hand a little tighter. "Would you tell me about your brother?" She asked shyly. I smiled to myself and turned my head back to my brother.

"What would you like to know beloved?"

"What is he like?" She said.

What was he like? I could talk for hours about what my brother was like. I reached over with my free hand and brushed his hair from his face, then grasped his limp hand in mine. "He is a fearless leader; his men would follow him to any battle, even a hopeless one-which most of them have done on more than one occasion. He is a brilliant fighter, capable of killing any monster the enemy can summon. He once even single handily killed a cave troll. He is a fiercely protective brother, who never let me get hurt while around. He's a great teacher, having taught me all my fighting skills and most of my 'life skills.' You know, things like how to swim, how to run really fast, how to climb trees without ruining your silk tunic, how to beguile people into doing things they really would rather not, how to dance, and how to avoid a fight. He loves a good story but can't stand to read. He hates politics; he'd rather fight a hundred Orcs than go to a council or diplomatic dinner. He's got a great sense of humor like no one else; he can always make me, and most everyone else laugh. One time he even got Gandalf to laugh so hard that he snorted. He's my big brother, and I couldn't have gotten a better one." I said, finishing with a long breath. Éowyn looked at me with a warm smile.

"I look forward to getting to know him – he sounds a lot like my own brother. He's really protective too." I laughed at that and she looked at me inquiringly.

I answered her question with a laugh. "I was just imagining your brothers face when I ask him for permission to court you."

She laughed gaily at that. "You shall be needing one of the life skills Boromir taught you when you ask Éomer." She said. I tilted my head and looked at her curiously.

"Which one?" I asked.

Éowyn looked like she could've burst. "The ability to run!" She said, and we broth broke down laughing. My laughter was stilled almost instantly though by a slight noise. Boromir's mouth had opened and his limp hand had just gripped mine. I scooted nearer to his seat tensely and tightened my grip on his cold hand. From the way that he battled that illness, I would've thought that he'd be warm in the least.

"Boromir" I said softly, calling him awake. He took a deep breath and his eyes fluttered open.

"Miri?" He questioned fearfully in a hoarse voice. That was unlike him, and I was surprised to see and hear him like this, in such sad, sad state. I got off the chair and knelt beside him.

"Shh, it's alright Boromir, you`re in the House of Healing." I told him while stroking his hair. "You've been asleep for quite awhile – you were badly wounded." Boromir tilted his head towards me and licked his dry lips. I felt Éowyn nudge something in my hand and looked to see what it was. A glass of water , whose cool liquid was tranquil within the cup. I smiled gratefully up at her and gently poured some down his throat while gently lifting his head so that he could swallow. "Is that better?" I asked softly.

He nodded and opened his mouth taking in another deep breath. "What happened?" He asked quietly. I was silent for a moment contemplating just what to say when I felt Éowyn move nearer to me.

"You were fighting on the lower level when it was sealed off. You got attacked by several Uruk-hai and became gravely injured. A soldier found you lying unconscious on top of six Uruk-hai, all of which you had sleighed. He took you away from the house of healing and you were brought to this house. You've been in a coma for the last eleven days." Her melodic voice was soft and soothing as she spoke to my brother. She had grasped his other hand and was stroking it in a motherly fashion. Boromir looked at her for a moment, and I realized he had no idea who Éowyn was.

I opened my mouth to introduce them but was interrupted by Boromir's hoarse voice. "You must be the Lady Éowyn." She blushed and nodded her head smiling softly. He laughed roughly and smiled. "You described her well brother, she is indeed beautiful." I smiled proudly as I looked at my beautiful love. She gave a blush, and acknowledged Boromir's gaze. "How did the battle end?" Boromir's worried voice drew me back to the room and away from Éowyn's beautiful gray eyes.

"We did indeed win the battle Boromir." I paused for a moment and then continued. "However, the army of both Gondor and Rohan has gone to Mordor to confront Sauron."

His reaction was not surprising, but it was instantaneous. "That's insanity!" He choked out.

I nodded sadly and continued my explanation. "They go to give Frodo a chance. They're to draw Sauron's gaze upon themselves, keeping him blind to all else. Giving Frodo the chance to destroy the Ring."

Éowyn whipped her head over to me and looked horrified. "You don't know?" She questioned disbelievingly.

"Know what?" Boromir and I said at together.

She took a breath and looked ashamed. "Aragorn won. The Ring has been destroyed." She said softly.

My heart stopped and I had to grip the bed. Never in my wildest dreams had I hoped for anything near as much. Frodo had succeeded - the Ring was destroyed? How had I not known! Why had no one told me?! Apparently my face showed my shock and disbelief because Éowyn quickly began to explain. "The afternoon we were attacked by that Uruk-hai we received the news that they had won. A great Eagle of Manwe's flew over the city an announced the victory. Forgive me," She said desperately, gripping my hand fiercely, "I had thought someone had told you – I know how close you were to all who went."

I know not what I would have said to her, for I never got a chance to reply. A flurry of emotions swelled from within me, both most distinctive were gladness and sadness. Had I known earlier…I would've…But suddenly Merry burst in the room in a terrible panic. His face was deathly pale and his cheeks tear stained. In his hand he clutched a wrinkled letter to his chest.

"Pippin's dying!" He cried out.


	53. Heirloom

_A/N: As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading._

Forgive me, the events are happening quickly. It took me a while to take it all in and assess them. But this was most disturbing and unreal. "What?" I asked dumbly , but I was dazed and it sounded more in shock. I must have heard him wrong. There was no way Pippin could be dying. Not after I had just found out they had won the battle – that Middle Earth was free from Sauron. He couldn't be dead – he deserved the chance to live a life free from the fear of Sauron.

Merry had fallen to his knees and was shaking from the force of the sobs that racked his body. Éowyn and I leaped off the bed at the same time and quickly knelt by his side. I stroked his back and grabbed the letter, reading its contents quickly. It was a letter from Gandalf with very few hastily, yet still elegantly written words.

_Meriadoc, _

_Come quickly, Pippin is gravely injured and I fear for his life. He calls out for you unceasingly and I fear that only you can bring him back from the shadow that threatens to claim his life._

_Gandalf_

I looked up at Éowyn in utter horror; she gasped at my expression and gripped Merry's shoulders all the more tightly. I mumbled incoherently for a moment before Éowyn jerked the crumbled letter from me and read it herself. I could not believe what I had read. Pippin could not possibly be dying. Not sweet, loving, joyful Pippin! He immolated everything that was life – his energy, happiness, radiance, and unending love for food and friendship.

Éowyn dropped the letter when she finished it and grasped Merry firmly by the shoulders, turning him to face her. "Merry…' She whispered, calling him to her. After a few times, He managed to look up at her fair face and sobbed all the harder.

"I – I – I can't do it! I can't go on without him!" He was hysterical and I was quickly joining him. Éowyn gave him a fierce shake and forced him to look at her.

"Merry!" She exclaimed fiercely with all the pride of one who lived in Rohan, where the Horse Lords resides. "Hope is not yet lost! You can still save him. It is you he is asking for. He needs his cousin, Merry. He needs him to be strong." She gave him a strong hug and then stood. "Come." She commanded. "We all must pack." Then she turned, giving me an acknowledging look. "We shall ride out to meet them to tonight." I nodded numbly and turned to my bed. Éowyn left the room with Merry in tow. I grabbed my clothes of my bed and began to fold them.

"Faramir?" I nearly jumped at the worried soft voice that came from behind me.

"Boromir!" I exclaimed how I could have forgotten him, my own brother!

He smiled sadly and sat up in his bed. I rushed over and tried to push him back down. He raised his hand and stopped me, sitting up fully. "Brother, do not worry about leaving me. You must go to your companion – were I better I would join you. I only knew him for a short while but I too fell in love with the dear little hobbit. Merry shall have need of yours and Éowyn's strength before the end. Tis a hard thing to face the idea of losing a loved one." He spoke so knowingly that I found myself momentarily wondering who he had known. Boromir slowly rose from the bed a bit tipsily. I rushed to assist him but he stopped me again. He reached for his armor, which we had left by his bed. He grabbed his gloves and grabbed something out of them. He took the small gold object and handed it to me.

"Here, little brother, you may have need of this than I will on the road ahead." He then opened his palm and showed me what he held. A thin band of gold with a single blue sapphire. It was our mother's promise ring. Father had given it to her when he'd asked her to become his wife.

I looked up at Boromir in awe. He would give up his one greatest heirloom from mother to me? I gently reached up and cupped my brother's hand, closing it on the precious ring.

"I cannot accept that my dearest brother." I said, as tears began to fall down my face. Roughly, I wiped them away with the back of my hands.

Boromir smiled softly and dropped the ring in my hand. "Mother wanted it to go to whoever married first; she simply assumed it would be me." He raised his eyes from my hand to look me in the face and continued. "I've no doubt that you have found the right woman Faramir, the way you look at her is sign enough." He smiled thoughtfully. "It reminded me of the way father used to look when I was younger."

I had no idea what to say to that.


	54. Birthright

_A/N: As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading._

Boromir must have sensed what I was thinking because he stopped moving.

"What is it Miri?" He questioned fearfully. I didn't want to see him like this, not right after he got all better. Guilt came once again to me as I remembered that I neglected to think about my brother while I was confessing my love to Éowyn. Even so, it's not that I'm not glad that I did state my feelings for her, and her me. These clashing emotions...how confusing they can be! I thought furiously for a moment, but there was nothing for it. I needed him to hear the terrible news from me – but I hadn't intended on telling him the news just yet.

"Sit down Boromir." I said with grim determination. He must know, I would suffer him to hear it from no other, and I would not have him wait so long to hear it. To have it prolonged was to worsen it. He might as well get it over with. He sat down on his bed fearfully and I sat across from him on the bed cross-legged.

I took a deep breath. "Father is dead Boromir." Boromir froze against the head board.

"How?" He murmured voice unreadable.

I dreaded all kind of expressions when one hears such grieving news. "After you were wounded he had you brought to him – he thought that you were dead. We were losing the battle; you saw how many were attacking us. He became mad with grief upon seeing you and ordered Beregond to bring fire and wood. He tried to burn you alive with him, stating that none would take his son from him. I came to your aid and with the help of Beregond, we saved you from the fires – but they consumed father." My voice broke as I spoke, I still couldn't believe it had all actually happened. It seemed no more than a dream since I consistently had those nightmares. Repeating over and over again...it was all a vague memory now, and to call it back was more like a horrid fantasy. Boromir reached out and grabbed my hand. He pulled it towards himself and gently stroked it , heaving deep sighs as he examined them.

"Is that how your hands became so burned Miri?" He asked sadly.

I looked at my now scarred hands. "I didn't even notice the flames when it happened." I answered lamely. I cursed myself inwardly as I felt tears well up in my eyes. They broke free of my eyes and fell down my face as I tried to hold back a sob. Boromir had me in his arms so fast that I didn't even have time to think. In an instant I was gripping his arms weeping into his shirt, as he wept into mine. We cried for a long while, both taking comfort in the fact that we weren't alone in our sorrow. Afterwards Boromir pulled away from me and looked at my face, the trails from his tears still visible on his kind face.

"Take the ring my brother – it is what mother really would have wanted." He said softly, letting go of the hand that held the elegant ring. I gently looked at the ring that was still resting in my now opened hand. I was feeling terrified all of a sudden.

"Do you think she would accept it, would accept me?" I asked quietly. I had finally voiced my concerns. With the admission of this great fear, I felt the burden of it lighten ever so much. Boromir looked at me, a smile widening his face.

"Do I think? Brother, she is in love with you. Honestly, I almost gagged from how sweet the two of you were!" I gave him a joyful shove and then jumped from the bed before he could retaliate.

"Come my brother, I must pack, and you must claim your Stewardship." I was terribly surprised to see all the joy drain from my brother's face only to be replaced by a look of great panic and fear. I returned to the bed and grasped his shoulders.

"Whatever is it Boromir?" I questioned fearfully. He lifted his big gray eyes and looked me in the face.

His face indicated deep thinking. Apparently, he had thought about this for quite a while now. "I do not wish it." He answered simply. Did not wish what?

"Pardon?" I asked, bewildered.

He leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes. "I do not want to be Steward." He opened his eyes and looked at me ashamedly. I felt my heart lighten, was that all that bothered him? I had thought something serious was wrong. Then my mind turned to the fact on how important the position was, yet I had the sense that he didn't want it.

"Why?" I questioned, setting myself on the bed beside him, with my hand on his shoulder. At that moment, I saw Éowyn`s patient gaze upon me, with her reassuring smile that warmed a kindling glow within me.

Boromir`s sigh had me look at him, eye to eye. "I hate politics. I do not wish to spend the rest of my life trying to be diplomatic! I would much rather be a soldier – would much rather be an ordinary man." He looked at me sadly, but then stared at me rather hard, a new idea lighting up his face.

"You could take it." He said slowly, as though he was fearful of ruining the idea. "You could be steward – the King even knows you. You're a natural politician and you love diplomacy." His eyes brightened as he spoke and he looked as though he had never had a better plan. I was not so sure though. Me be the Steward? It was his birthright, plus I had never ever even considered taking on such an important role, although I was a better politician. Could I take it though? Not only would I be in a position where I am familiar with the field, I would also be doing my brother a favor. He after all is the better fighter, and would do the army a whole lot of good taking a captain's position instead of Steward.

These things are coming so suddenly that I had to contemplate each one so that I could absorb their information quickly. I spoke slowly, thinking about each word I spoke. "Boromir, tis a heavy decision to be made so hastily. Perhaps we should think about it and discuss it further when I return."

Boromir gave a weary smile. "So long as you truly consider it my brother, I would not regret giving you the birthright in the least." I smiled at my brother as once again got off the bed.

I sensed that a certain hobbit was getting more anxious in the minute. I would have to end this conversation quickly – I wanted more time to talk with my brother who finally was lifted of darkness – so that no time would be wasted any further. "We shall speak more of it later. For now I really have to pack." As I resumed folding my clothes I felt a familiar sense of fear and panic start to claim me. My hands began to shake as I hastily threw my clothes in a pile. I had to hurry; we had to get to Pippin. I will never forgive myself if the little hobbit have died because of their inevitable fate when they decided to join the Fellowship. I knew in my heart, I have nothing to do with Pippin's death – should it be – but...the hobbit had such an impact on me. On all of us. Life would not be the same. Boromir came up from behind me and grabbed my quaking hands.

"Brother, he will not die. Gandalf shall see to that." He turned me around so that I faced him. "Merry will need you to be sane, not panic stricken." He pulled me into an embrace and held me tight. His body was warm, like strength was flowing through him like an never-ending stream "Come now," he said as he released me. We both held each other's shoulders in a firm grip. "You must hurry to the young hobbit." Then his eyes got a mischievous twinkle. "We'll have a wedding to plan upon your return."


	55. To Cormallen

_A/N: Thanks Sapphire for beta reading this!_

_A/N: Wow! I am so sorry it has been so long since I've updated, I hope the content makes up for the long wait…_

March 29, 3019:

After I had packed a few key belongings, I went to Nestedrin to ask permission for Merry, Éowyn, and myself to leave. He was very reluctant to let us leave, but gave permission once he read the letter. He asked me to be sure and tell Pippin that he would be praying to *Estë for him. Then Merry couldn't control himself and allowed the tears to flow. Nestedrin placed a grieving hand on his shoulder, and whispered a few words to him. With that, Lady Éowyn and I didn't know how, but Merry nodded and wiped clean his face.

Therefore, two hours after we had received the fateful letter, we were leaving Minas Tirith. I was riding Fëarulissë and Merry and Eowyn were riding Shadowmere, a pure black mare. None of us has exchanged a word of hope or fear of Pippin or the dangers that may lie in our rode as hard as we could despite our many injuries, stopping only for a quick supper. We rode well into the night, so desperate were we to reach Pippin. Once we finally did stop, we set up a small camp. We had chosen not to bring any supplies for a tent, deciding that it would be wise to pack as lightly as possible. So we spread our cloaks on the ground and slept beneath the stars, in the calming light of Varda. We arose early the next morning and set off again. We continued in this pattern for another day, when we finally caught sign of Aragorn's camp.

The army had set up camp in the middle of the fields of Cormallen. We arrived late in the night so the camp was quiet with but a few men walking around keeping guard. We mounted our horses and walked quietly up to camp. I was fairly worried about what our greeting would be like. What if someone thought we were the enemy, would we be shot at? What if we were already too late for Pippin? Questions rose in my head just like when Boromir was still unconscious. I shuddered as we walked towards camp and pushed that thought out of my head. Pippin will be alive, and we would be on time. As we neared camp, I noticed a man walk out of the shadows of a tent and come towards us. He raised his hands in peaceful greetings, as though he knew me but I could not see his face. I gave a quick glance towards Éowyn and Merry, but they both shrugged and gestured me to welcome back. I raised my hand in similar fashion and he came to a stop in front of us.

"Greetings Lord Faramir, Lady Éowyn, and Lord Merry." A very familiar and friendly voice quietly said. I smiled in surprise and delight.

"Damrod!" I exclaimed happily. At least one of my friends had made it out of the battle alive. I raised my arm and grasped his shoulder in a display of joy. Damrod clasped my shoulder in return and smiled broadly.

"Tis good to see you again, my Captain." His smile faltered as he glanced at Merry. I frowned, but then it was to be expected. Pippin is deathly ill. "Come, my friends, we've no time to waste." He then turned around, letting his arm fall from my shoulder, and lead us towards a tent near the center of camp. He lifted the flap on the cream colored tent and allowed first Merry, then myself and Éowyn to enter the tent. "I shall take my leave of you now, Milord." Damrod murmured quietly as he left the tent. The tent was sparsely lit by a few strategically placed candles. There was a bed in the middle of the room and a chair on either side of the bed, occupied by Legolas and Gimli. Both were on chairs beside the bed, and they were both sound asleep, save for Gimli's snore. However the presence of my two dear friends did very little to lift my spirits, for in the bed laid Pippin. He looked almost ghostly lying against the green sheets. His right arm was atop the blanket, covered in a soft silk sling; his left arm was below the blanket, so I could not see whether it was injured. He wore a lose shirt, thorough which one could see his chest wrapped in bandages. His pale face was marred with many scratches, making him look all the more unreal. Who was this broken hobbit before me? Surely it could not be my dear Pippin, whose laughter and clumsiness were the very core of happiness in our band of nine. This hobbit looked near death, his face contorted in pain and fear – Pippin had never looked anything but peaceful when he slept.

My head whipped to the direction of a very gentle sniffing sound, expecting it to be Merry, but instead it was Éowyn, who embarrassingly wiped away a sole tear from her face. Merry himself was caught in a frozen, shocked and horrified expression, like he was made of stone. For that moment, I just found that I myself was like Merry, still and stiff.

I was jarred out of my repose by a sudden movement from Merry. He had stirred beside me and made to fall. I reached out quickly, with skills honed for battle, and caught him before he fell. At the slight noise, Legolas raised his head and looked to be awakening from a trance.

*Este is one of the 14 Valar. Her chief power is healing.


	56. Not Ever

_A/N: As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading._

"Mellons, it is good to see your faces." He said in his musical voice. The ease of his voice calmed me and I felt myself release the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Merry sprang from my arms and embraced the elf.

"It is true then." He cried in the elf's fair shoulder. "He's dying!"

"Nay Merry. Not yet, not ever." Legolas said firmly as he pulled the hobbit back so that he could look in his eyes. "Your being here will give Pippin the strength he needs to survive." He turned the hobbit around so that he could look at his beloved cousin. "Go to him Merry. Hold his hand so that he knows you are near." Merry took a timid step towards the bed, he paused and took another step, and then he was upon the bed. He slowly reached out and grasped the hand that Pippin had above the bed, despite the sling it was in. The effect was almost immediate. Pippin rolled his head over so it was facing Merry, and seemed to breathe easier in his sleep.

"I was so worried." He whispered to the still sleeping Pippin. "You promised me you wouldn't get hurt." He reached up with his other hand and gently pushed the hair away from the young hobbits face. A slight smile formed on the sleeping hobbits face. "My dear sweet Pip." Merry murmured lovingly as he finished fixing the sleeping hobbits hair. He then leaned down and kissed him lightly on his marred cheek. Pippin stirred and blinked sleepily. He looked up and drifted his eyes around the room, unseeingly until he came to Merry. He froze almost fearfully and looked up into the face of his cousin. "Hello Pip, how are you feeling?" Merry asked gently as he squeezed his hand.

"Merry?" Pippin asked disbelievingly. Merry smiled and nodded his head. The smile on Pippins face consumed his entire face, lighting up the room and his weary body. "Merry!" He exclaimed hoarsely. "You're bad." He said with a fake pout. "Do you realize just how late you are?" Merry laughed happily and smoothed the covers over his little cousin.

Merry took a quick look at me, but I simply shrugged. I was simply just relieved to see that Pippin was smiling at all, despite his injuries. "I got here just as soon as I could – Faramir rides slow." I chuckle at that and stepped nearer the bed.

"I do not ride slowly, you two are merely impatient!" Pippin laughed softly, and then began to cough severely. Merry, held him up gently, whispering soothingly to him. Gimli jerked awake, noted our presences, and proceeded to run from the tent. Eowyn and I watched in surprise as he ran into the dark night. I turned my head and looked at her with an upturned eyebrow. She returned my surprised look with a slight smile. Pippin stopped coughing and took in a few shaky breathes, looking worse than he had when we first arrived. I heard a commotion behind me and turned in time to see someone rushing into the tent alongside of Gimli. The dark figure knelt in front of Pippin's bed and murmured something in elvish. When I heard his deep voice I had to suppress the urge to tackle the man in a hug.

The man rubbed gentle circles on Pippin's voice as he continued to whisper in elvish. "Breathe Pippin, the pain will pass."

Pippin nodded his head fearfully and took a deeper breathe. "Thanks... Thanks Aragorn." He said unsteadily. Aragorn rugged face smiled slightly as he sat back on his legs. He gave Pippin a gentle squeeze on his arm and turned his head towards me.

"Mellon nin, tis good to see you." He said smiling at me. I felt my heart quicken with joy, Aragorn was alive and well! I unconsciously stepped forward and knelt so that I was level with him.

"I came as fast as I could. We left Minas Tirith the moment we received the note – Boromir took control of the city while we are gone." Aragorn nodded his head and smiled.

'So your brother is once again awake?" He asked, his face obviously gladdened by the news.

"Right before we left – he was quite annoyed that he missed you again." Aragorn smiled thoughtfully and looked up, noticing Éowyn for the first time. I felt a sudden chill as I realized this could get uncomfortable quick. I rose swiftly and went to Éowyn's side, grasping her fair hand in mine. I smiled down at Aragorn as I rubbed her hand. "We have much to tell you Mellon." I said whilst still holding my Éowyn's hand. I smiled to myself at that thought, my Eowyn. How odd that I should be able to claim her heart. A week ago, I thought that I should stand a greater chance of single-handedly killing Sauron than winning the heart of the one I held so dear. Eowyn smiled at the move and lovingly squeezed my hand.

"Yes, we have much to tell." She then swiftly turned her head and peered at Aragorn. "And much to hear. I for one should like to hear how the Battle of Pelennor Field ended, as everyone who was left in Minas Tirith was unconscious or in the House of Healing at the conclusion. I should also like to know what exactly transpired on this field." Her eyes sparkled as she finished. "I believe it shall be quite the tale."

"Oh, it really is!" Pippin exclaimed excitedly, with only a slight shake to his voice. I could honestly say that if it weren't for his bed-ridden injuries, he'd be jumping with Merry and begging for stories. "Wait till you hear about the troll I killed!" He smiled proudly and looked up at his cousin. Merry looked appropriately surprised and pleased.

"You killed a troll? Single-handedly? That's quite a feat for one so small!" He exclaimed elatedly. Pippin grinned proudly and nodded. He really had killed a troll.

"Yes, you did indeed kill the troll." Gimli said grumpily. I felt myself smile at the familiar tone; it had been quite a while since I had heard the grumpy old dwarf speak. "However there will be plenty of time to talk about that in the morning. We've all had a long day, and you kept us up half the night with your coughing. So, I am going to bed, and I suggest you do the same, Master Pippin." With one last huff, Gimli strode out of the tent. Aragorn smiled and turned back to us.

"Yes, Gimli is quite right. We should all get some sleep. Damrod, would you fetch a cot for Merry? I think he should sleep here with Pippin." Damrod left the tent and Aragorn turned to me. "Faramir, I have only one extra tent, and I believe it should be given to Éowyn, since she is the only woman at camp. Would you mind sharing a tent with me?"

"Never would I mind Mellon, should I not inconvenience you?" I asked tentatively. Aragorn smiled broadly and shook his head no as he replied.

"No, you should not inconvenience me in the least. In fact, I should rather like the company." As he finished he reached out to the bed and stiffly pulled himself up. "Come now; let us leave these young Hobbits to each other." Aragorn led the way out of the tent, followed by Legolas, and lastly Éowyn and myself, still clasping hands. Aragorn pointed us towards Éowyn's tent and left me alone to walk her to her tent. I walked as slowly as possible to her tent, not wishing to be separated from my love for even a moment, let alone a night.

"Éowyn?" I asked,choosing my words as carefully as before.

She looked away from the stars she had been observing and smiled at me as we walked. "Yes Faramir?"

"Should you mind my asking Éomer for permission to court you tomorrow?" I said quickly.

She tilted her head back and laughed lightly, a sound I could never get enough of. "No Faramir, I should not mind at all – I only wish you could ask tonight!" Her eyes sparkled with joy as she spoke. I felt my face widen in a ridiculous grin as I watched her. How I loved this woman! So happy am I that she has been healed of the evil shadow that seemed to torment her since I met her. She has found the joy of laughter, and seems determined never to lose it again.

We sadly came upon the tent far too quickly. I paused in front of the entrance, and glancing around to ensure no one was watching, I gave her a quick kiss on her soft lips. She sighed happily into my mouth and I nearly stayed with her. However I somehow managed to find the strength to break the kiss and step back.

"Till tomorrow my beautiful lady." I gave a slight bow and stepped back, letting her into the tent. She smiled and gave my face one last stroke with her smooth hand. She then disappeared into the tent.

After a moment of standing there, smiling dumbly I realized I should probably move to Aragorn's tent. I shook my head and headed to the tent Aragorn had taken.


	57. Much to Tell

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire for beta reading this!_

The tent was sparsely furnished, with only two beds and a few chairs. It smelled pleasantly of Althaeas, and of pipe smoke. It honestly didn't look very different from Pippins, save for the five banners displayed on the walls of the tent. There was the crest of Gondor – the white tree with the seven stars. One with the Rohirriam crest, one with the crest of Lothlórien, one with the crest of the King of Dain (Gimli's dwarf kingdom) and the last banner held the crest of Rivendell. I smiled as I looked at each crest, remembering the friends who had aided us on our quest. Aragorn's voice drew me from my memories and I looked over to see him sitting on a bed signalling for me to take the other.

I gingerly sat down on the soft bed, noting with detached interest that my pains had seemed to return. Aragorn looked at me hard for a moment, probably sensing my sudden discomfort. I grinned sheepishly and shrugged my sore shoulders.

Aragorn rose from the bed and walked up behind me, climbing up on the bed so that he was seated behind me. He raised his arms and gently started to massage my neck. His warm hands instantly soothed my tense muscles and I felt myself relax against him.

"Mellon, you are clearly feeling some pain. How long has this been going on?" Aragorn asked me accusingly.

"Since I entered the room honestly." I said sheepishly. I wouldn't have told him I was in pain, but there was no since in denying it since he had seen me flinch. Aragorn 'hmmed' curiously and said he should like to further examine my wounds should I not mind. I answered in the affirmative and took of my tunic, barring my back to my friend. Aragorn's long fingers gently examined my wounds, his warm hands easing there pain. After a quick examination, he left the bed to gather some supplies. He returned quickly and began to gently bathe my wounds.

"What happened while we were away?" Aragorn asked curiously as he gently washed the wounds that I bore from the whipping my father gave me. I felt myself blush slightly at the question. My mind drifted to thoughts of Beregond's friendly teasing.

"I fell in love." I answered simply. "At first things were really awkward at the House of Healing." I said, running my hand absentmindedly along the seam of the blanket. "I was the only one who really knew anybody there. We were all really injured, so we couldn't leave the house or do much of anything. So we ended up spending a lot of time in the garden. Merry helped to break the ice between Éowyn and me. Because we'd gotten to know each other really well through the Fellowship, while Éowyn and him had gotten to know each other through the battle, and their shared experience with the wraith. We spent all our extra time in the garden, learning more about each other and slowly healing. I fell in love with her heart and soul." I paused here and looked back at Aragorn. What I said next caused him to look away for a moment or two, but then he looked back at me with understanding eyes. "But Éowyn was still in love with you. Yet despite that fact I couldn't stop myself from loving her. Everyone could tell that I was smitten by her, so they all tried to help me. Merry would tell her about me, and Nestedrin even let me stay out late with her. I feared it was all for not though until three days ago." I flushed a little when Aragorn smiled as I said 'they all tried to help me'. He even added a few chuckles then quieted himself to allow me to continue.

"Éowyn and I had been wandering around the bottom level, when an Uruk-hai attacked us. Éowyn's arm was still broken, so she couldn't protect herself. I stood between them and fought him off, killing him. Unfortunately, I was injured in the process. I awoke later in the house of healing. Boromir was growing desperately ill. I called for help and Nestedrin took care of him. The next day I awoke feeling a terrified-for no reason. Boromir was doing well so I couldn't figure out why I had a sense of foreboding. Then I remembered a vision I'd had earlier. I had seen Éowyn killing herself. I realized with terrible certainty that my vision was about to really happen. Therefore I ran out into the garden, and found Éowyn on the wall. " My voice broke suddenly, cutting off awkwardly as I continued. "She was going to jump." The horror I'd felt in that instant came flooding back. Never would I forget the shock and horror of seeing her standing on that ledge, getting ready to jump. Never could I let Éowyn face danger again – it would destroy me to lose her. Aragorn sensed my distress and gently rubbed my back in a way that reminded me of Boromir. I smiled gratefully and found the strength to continue the tale.

"I tried to make her stop, but she refused to look at me. She wouldn't believe I was real. I pulled her off the wall and she broke down. She said that she loved me and couldn't believe I was dying because of her. Apparently Nestedrin had told her that the 'Steward' of Gondor was dying, meaning my brother, but she had thought he meant me." I heard Aragorn make a sympathetic noise and I nodded in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. I finally convinced her of the truth and confessed my own love to her. Boromir awoke shortly after our declaration – and he really liked her. That's when we received Gandalf's message." I looked down at the sheets as I felt Aragorn finish bandaging my numerous wounds. "I still can't believe she actually loves me." I said dazedly. I was afraid even now, that it was all simply a dream and that I soon will wake in a heated, sweaty stupor under white sheets on a white bed in the House of Healing. Absentmindedly, I pinched myself, and to my relief, I was still there. Aragorn rose silently from behind me and sat next to me on the bed.

"I am so happy for you Mellon," he said, turning to gaze at me as he spoke.

"It hardly seems real. So much has happened that I can scarcely believe it." I said. He nodded his head in agreement.

"It's incredible isn't it?" He said softly, his voice seems to be carried off to the winds outside. "All our lives we've lived in fear of him. Now he's dead. All we've ever dreamed of, all we've ever hoped for might come true."

I agree. It's like an overwhelming, burdening stress that suppressed everyone has now left us. I felt like I could breathe for the first time. "It's a bit overwhelming."

He leaned his head back and laughed happily. "To say the least!" He said, while laughing.

I smiled and we sat in silence for a moment after he calmed down. My back no longer ached and I was truly grateful. "Aragorn?" I asked quietly.

"Mellon?"

"What all happened here? I, like Éowyn, didn't even get to see the end of the battle of Pelennor Fields." I gripped his arm and turned to him. "I am dying for some information!"


	58. The Road to the Dead

_A/N: Thanks Sapphire for beta reading this!_

Aragorn smiled softly at my ill-contained eagerness. I must admit, even I could notice that my twitching was obvious. "Very well Mellon nin. I cannot have you die. Which would you like to hear of first?"

"Pelennor Fields." I answered without even having to think. I had been wondering about that battle for a long time." Éowyn said that you did not ride with the Rohirriam, but you were at Gondor by the end of the battle. So where were you?" I asked, not bothering to hide my curiosity. I hope he realized I was not accusing him of anything, I was just wondering how he had arrived at Minas Tirith.

Aragorn's smile faltered slightly and his eyes grew distant, as though recalling a frightening memory. "I took the Demholt road." He answered quietly. I'm sure my shock was audible. He had done what? Surely I must have misheard him. The Demholt were traitors, cowardly and bereft of all honor. They were also all dead. They had sworn allegiance to Isildur, to come to our aid when we should need it. But when the time came, when our need was dire, they were nowhere to be found. Isildur cursed them in his anger, never to rest until they had fulfilled their promise. In what reason in the world would cause my lord to take that route? That accursed place seemed to even be foul in my mind, but I could not push it away.

Aragorn was gazing at me with his piercing eyes. "Indeed I did Faramir." He paused, still looking intently at me. "Legolas, Gimli, and the rangers of the north accompanied me on the path. I shall not describe the path we took, nor the place itself, for not but evil would come of speaking it. Suffice to say it was a forsaken, vile place. We traveled deep into its heart and found the King of the Dead. I summoned them to fulfill their oath and fight for me. After some debate they agreed to follow me. We took over the Corsairs ship." He smiled slightly for the first time during his tale. "That was actually fun. We stood on the shore, just Legolas, Gimli, the rangers and I. We hardly numbered up to anything. I told them they would go no further. That they may not entered Gondor. Needless to say they laughed at us. The captain asked who we were to deny them passage. I told them that we were the defense of Gondor, and that they should prepare to be boarded. They laughed even louder at that, asking us and what army." His grin broadened as he looked at me. "That's when the Army of the Dead appeared. Their faces were great, they looked so horrified." I chuckled slightly at the thought. Who wouldn't have been terrified seeing an army of dead men? What kind of dead men, though? Translucent, rotting ghosts or solid, walking corpses? The thought disgusts me either way, but yet I was glad that they were able – no, _willing_ to assist my lord. "Anyway, we took over the ship and sailed to Minas Tirith under the guise of the Corsairs." His smile faded once again as he continued. "I couldn't believe my eyes when we reached the battlefield. The battle was almost even, but Sauron's forces weren't tiring, and ours were. The Army of the dead finished off the rest of the enemy, but we had already lost so many. I should have arrived sooner, who knows how many we might have saved." He stopped there, his eyes bright with unshed tears. My own tears were starting to fall freely as I thought of all whom I had lost. Desiring to bring comfort to one who had always had a comforting word and embrace for me, I reached out and embraced Aragorn. He shuddered against me as his tears finally began to fall.

"I know, I know." I whispered as I stroked his back. "There was not you could have done to save them. They knew the dangers of the battle. They would not have chosen another path." I said the words to myself as much as Aragorn. "You saved countless lives by arriving when you did. We were losing the battle. The arrival of the Rohirriam strengthened us, but we were already out numbered again." I continued to comfort my friend as his crying lightened, my own tears ceasing as well. There would be time to properly mourn all we had lost later. Aragorn pulled back and continued on with his story.

"After the battle I re-summoned the Demholt and held their oath fulfilled. The peace in their eyes as they departed was truly envious." He stopped here and I greatly wished to press him for more details, however I could tell he did not wish to talk any more about that battle. Anyone who had seen death and was near it could tell that Aragorn would wished to have join the Demholt in order to find peace, and frankly without Éowyn nor my brother, I think I would've chosen death as well to accompany my lord.


	59. To Mordor

I smiled to myself as Aragorn continued his narrative. He'd leaned back against the bed post in a pose that reminded me instantly of our many night watches when we were traveling as a fellowship. I started to remember all the nights we had spent just like this, telling each other stories, both made up and real. It was hard to believe that it was only a few months since I had last seen him, since I had last seen all my many friends. Our journey as a Fellowship seemed like it had happened years ago, not months. But then, these last few months had really distorted my perception of time. Even Aragorn's leaving for Mordor seemed like ages ago.

"We rode to Mordor with few stops, we new that time would be crucial in saving Frodo and Sam." Aragorn's warm voice drifted over me and I forced myself to listen to his narrative, leaving my thoughts for a later time. "In truth, the journey was rather dull. Everyone was quite, mournful even. We all new what this battle would entail, that we would most likely not return from it. Needless to say it was actually a relief to see the black gates.

At the Crossroads, we left the main force for a while with a small company of troops and surveyed Minas Morgul from afar, finally setting fire to Morgul Vale. We ambushed by Orcs and Easterlings but we beat them back without much loss.

Before the battle began, Sauron sent his servant, the Mouth of Sauron, to speak with us. He tried to trick Gandalf into believing Sauron held Frodo captive, displaying Sam's sword, an Elven cloak, and Frodo's mithril shirt as evidence. He threatened that Frodo would be tortured if we did not agree to Sauron's terms of surrender. Gandalf, however, refused to be swayed, He took the items from the Mouth of Sauron, and sent him away. He- the mouth-was very angry and rode back to the Black Gate telling the forces of Sauron to advance. At the same time, more of Sauron's forces that had been hidden in the hills around the Black Gate came forth, thus completely surrounding us. Sauron's army outnumbered our forces by at least ten to one. We divided our selfs in two rings upon two great hills of rubble. Gandalf, Elladan, Elrohir, and Myself were on the left, and Éomer, Imrahil, and the Knights of Dol Amroth were on the right.

Against My army were Sauron's hordes of Orcs, Trolls, and Mannish allies, Easterlings and Haradrim. There wer also Olog-hai, a new brand of orc. They made the Uruk-hai look like children. The battle was intense and bloody. I lost track of my allies and became fully immersed in Sauron's horde. We were losing, badly, when Gwaihir showed up. He brought with him several other Eagles and they begun to attack from the air. They took our some of the Nazgûl's flying beast, and killed countless monsters.

But we were still hopelessly outnumbered. It was at that exact moment, when all hope seemed lost, that Frodo destroyed the ring. Sauron's army fell into disarray. The Nazgûl flew over Mount Doom just as it underwent a gigantic volcanic eruption, and they were all destroyed in the firestorm. Barad-dûr, the Black Gate and the Towers of the Teeth collapsed to ruin as Mount Doom continued to erupt. Sauron's physical body perished yet yet he was not yet destroyed. He formed a gigantic shadow in the sky and reached out in wrath to the heroes, but it was blown away by a strong wind, and his spirit disappeared. The Orcs and other creatures of Sauron were left completely directionless with the Dark Lord's demise and were easily defeated by our army. Some slew themselves, while others fled to hide in dark places. The proud Easterlings and Southrons fought on bravely, though eventually most threw down their weapons and surrendered."

"Thank you for telling me Aragorn, but I still have one question. How did Pippin come to be so gravely injured?"

Aragorn looked at me, and with a slight nod he resumed his tale. "That happened right after the Eagles flew over. He was fighting a cave troll, the monster was at least five times his height. Yet he still held his own against it. He stabbed it in the heart with a fatal blow, and the accursed creature fell on top of him. None of us were anywhere near him when it happened, so we had no idea what had happened. We started to look for him after the battle, but we could find him no where. Needless to say we all feared the worse." Aragorn's eyes grew distant and pained as he recalled the memory. I couldn't blame him that would not be a memory I would want to dwell on either.

"Gimli is actually the one who found him. He saw the hobbits foot sticking out from under the carcass of the cave troll. He rescued him from beneath it while Legolas summoned me. We barely arrived in time to save him. I fear that had we been even a moment later Pippin would have died. As it was he suffered massive injuries. Nearly all his ribs were broken or cracked; his arm was crushed, his leg broken in three spots. The arm that wasn't crushed had popped out of its socket, and his face had been bruised and battered." He looked up at me with a solemn face. "Twas a good thing that Merry was not here, I believe he would have gone mad if he had seen him. He was not recognizable as our Pippin, indeed, he hardly looked like a hobbit at all." He closed his gray eyes and wiped away a stray tear from his cheek.

"Gandalf sent a message to Merry the moment we found Pippin to be in danger. We've been by his side constantly, I really did not think he would make it for a while." He opened his eyes and looked at me with a small grin. "I have never been happier to be proven wrong."

"When I heard the letter I thought I should faint. I could hardly comprehend the idea of Pippin being hurt, let alone dying. Merry was hysterical and I was shocked. I am embarrassed to say that it was actually Eowyn that got us going. She told us what to do and helped calm both Merry and me down." I was silent for a moment, then continued. "I'm lucky to have her."

Aragorn smiled a little wider at that. "The change that came over Pippin the minute he saw all of you was amazing. I hadn't seen him smile anywhere near that brightly. He hadn't stopped asking for Merry since he awoke. He's been slipping in and out of consciousness the last few days. I haven't seen him as stable as he just was when he saw Merry. The bond those two share really is incredible." He looked thoughtful for a moment before he continued. "The bond the four of them share is unbelievable actually. I had never seen friends like that before this mission. My kind have long protected the Shire from outside forces, but I never really appreciated what it was we protected before the Fellowship. I understand now the wisdom Gandalf had when he gave me the orders to guard and protect the Hobbits. Knowing that such a peaceful place as the Shire exist made the journey through such evils as the Demholt rode more bearable. It made it seem as though there really was a reason to fight Sauron. I wasn't just fighting for my own people. I was well and truly fighting for all of Middle Earth."

"I know," I replied. "I thought little about other races than my own before this journey. I always admired elves, but thought them uncaring. Dwarves I found to be stubborn, and I thought them lower than my own race. I wasn't even aware of Hobbits. This fellowship made me realize how unique and truly valuable each of our races was. That we all had a part to play in the shaping of Middle Earth, and that together we should decide her future." I finished up my statement with and ill concealed yawn, which succeeded in taking some of the grandness out of it. Araagorn stifled a snicker and smiled at me as I finished.

"Come Mellon, it is late and you've traveled far, not to mention you are still healing from a vast array of injuries-all of which I should like an accounting of in the morning. You seem to have gotten into more trouble since I last saw you. None the less I shall hear about them in the morning. Tonight you shall go to bed and rest easy. For Sauron is killed, and evil is at bay if only for a little while." He then gently laid me down on the bed and pulled a cover over me. I was fast asleep before he even blew out the candle.


	60. Reunions

_A/N: Thanks Sapphire for beta reading this!_

_I sincerely apologize for the incredibly long wait. I promise it won't happen again. I have another month and a half of days to write about and then this story will be finished. I already have a great idea for a sequel and can't wait to get started on it._

**March 30**

I awoke to the sound of a giggle this morning. I opened my sleep heavy eyes just in time to see and a jubilant Hobbit jump off of the floor and on top of me, knocking all the air out of my lungs in the process. "Faramir!" the happy voice exclaimed. I choked with surprise and sat up right, grabbing the Hobbit around the waist. Merry curled in on himself, trying in vain to hide from my now tickling hands.

"No! No!" He squealed, gasping for breath as he tried to wiggle out of my grip. I grabbed him tighter, redoubling my attack.

"You should not have awakened me if you did not wish to face the consequences!" I whispered evilly into his ear. After a few more moments I released the now thoroughly tickled hobbit on top of my rumpled bed sheets and leaned back against my pillow. I took a deep breath- for I to had lost all my breath laughing- and marveled at how pain free I was. Never would I get over the marvelous healing powers Aragorn possessed.

"That was not fair!" Merry said, still gulping air greedily. "You wouldn't wake up!" He gave me a mock pout and sat up on his knees in the bed, facing me . "I called your name several times. I was about to get Eowyn." He glared at me from under his mussed curls in mock indignation. "I've never seen such a heavy sleeper! Even Frodo is easier to awake." I chuckled at that. During our journey as a fellowship it was quickly learned that Frodo hated waking up. To be able to wake Frodo up was quite an accomplishment.

"Take that back!" I said, with pretend horror. "Take it back or I shall have to tickle you again!"

"Okay!" Merry squealed, "Okay, okay!" He gave a last excited giggle and then hopped of the bed. "But you really did sleep in awfully late. Pippin has asked about you-he wants to tell you how he killed that troll." Nodding my head I slowly got out of bed, testing my limbs in the process. I couldn't even feel my wounds anymore-yet another tribute to the healing powers of Aragorn's hands.

"Alright Master Merry, give me a moment to get dressed and I shall be right with you." I said with a small bow.

Merry titled his head and studied me wit a quick glance. "But your already dressed Faramir, did you go to bed in your clothes?" I looked down at myself and was surprised to note that Merry was right. I though back to the previous night and realized that I had indeed gone to bed in my clothes. I examined my clothes, and decided that they were decent enough.

"You are indeed right Master Merry, I did sleep in my clothes." I leaned down and smiled at his eagerness. "You see, it saves time in the morning. After all, us late sleepers need all the help we can get." He gave a short laugh and then grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the tent.

He pulled me along behind him, through the camp to Pippin's tent, allowing me no time to greet the familiar faces along the way. Once we arrived at Pippin's tent we ducked under the half-opened flap and were greeted by Pippin, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Eowyn, and Eomer. I had indeed slept late.

"You got him up!" Pippin exclaimed merrily as we strode into the tent. I smiled pleasantly at all my friends as I nodded to Pippin. It was incredible to be in all of there company again. I truly hadn't believed I would see any of them again. Especially not under such joyous circumstance.

"Tis good to see you all again." I said quietly, slightly overwhelmed by emotion. I tried to hide the tremor in my voice as best I could but I believe those that new me best, namely Gandalf, Aragorn, and Eowyn, sensed it. Either way Eowyn walked up to me and slipped her hand into mine. I lost my breath at that. She had just claimed me as her own in front of her brother!

I risked a quick glance at Eomer and saw that he was staring at Eowyn with an unreadable expression-not exactly helpful in the long run. I sighed inwardly and decided that as soon as the time was right I would take Eomer aside and ask his permission to court and marry his sister. A vivid image of just what his response might be occurred to me and I quickly pushed it aside. I could not allow negative thoughts to interfere with my future with Eowyn. I was already too much in love with her to even consider not asking Eomer permission-no matter the consequences.

"Eowyn has already told us what occurred in Minas Tirith while we were away, and Eomer has already informed her of all that has passed here. So, assuming Aragorn has filled you in, everyone here now is fully aware of all that has passed." Gandalf's deep, wise voice filled the silent air and I found myself instantly smiling at the sound of it. No one that I knew of could sound like him, none carried that commanding, wise, yet gentle and caring aura.

"Yes," Aragorn answered him. "Faramir and I shared tales last night. We are both fully informed."

"Then perhaps we should start our reunion with a bit of lunch?" Merry piped up.

We ate a quick meal of bread, cheese, and fruit, with water to drink-we would have a more appropriate feast when Frodo and Sam awoke. Until such a time we would hold our merrymaking to a minimum. For how could we rejoice when the two people most responsible for our joy were lying unconscious on a bed?

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking, just catching up and having fun. Despite the seriousness of the last few months we all had amble stories of humorous events to tell of. My chance to speak with Eomer did not come until late into the evening. Eomer had left the tent to check on his horse, despite the fact that the camp had a stable hand to tend to the horses Eomer periodically checked up on them to see that they were doing well. I never ceased to be amazed at the tenderness and love that the sometimes barbaric Rohirrim showed their horses.

Anyway, as soon as he left to tend the horses I made up an excuse, something about needing a breath of fresh air, and bade to leave the group for a while. Aragorn excused me with a knowing twinkle in his eye and I left the tent in search of Eomer.


	61. I've Come to Ask

_A/N: As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading._

I did not have to go far. He was waiting right outside the tent for me. How had he known I wanted to speak with him? Was my love for his sister so obvious? He was standing to the right of the tent with his back to me, gazing at the now setting sun. I slowly walked up beside him and took on a similar stance to him, crossing my arms against my chest as he was. The evening wind began to blow across the camp, caressing us with its cool arms. It set my hair softly billowing around me so that I could scarcely see Éomer.

"Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private, and less windy." Éomer's stern baritone voice carried over the wind and set a chill down my back. I am not one for unnecessary confrontation and really did not relish the idea of being alone with Éomer when I told him of my desire to marry his sister. Éomer was built with the strong muscular stature of the Rohirrim, whereas I had the long lean stature of the Northern. I knew that I should not win should he come to blows. Not that I would actually fight him. I should never be able to face Éowyn again if I should hurt her beloved brother, but it`s more like he`s likely to hurt me rather than the other way around. Having no other choice than to agree with what he said I nodded my head in agreement.

Éomer led me across the camp to a tent that was adjacent to Éowyn's tent. The way I was feeling now, so frightened and worried, it was hard to believe that I had felt as happy as I had last night in this very spot. It seemed like days ago that I had bid Éowyn a good night from this spot. I suddenly found myself nervously trying to recall if anyone might have seen us kiss. I should never have taken such a liberty if I had known her brother was in the very next tent.

"Come in Faramir." Éomer still stern voice stopped my panic and brought my mind back to the situation at hand. He was standing in the tent holding its flap open so that I could answer. I nodded my head at him and walked into the tent. It was a rather large tent, much like Aragorn's. There was a single bed with a fur instead of a blanket against the far wall, a table with two chairs near the tents entrance, and the floor was covered in a red and gold carpet. As I entered the room, a new thought struck me.

Éomer was a king.

I don't know why that had not actually occurred to me before. Perhaps it was because I did not wish to dwell on Théoden's death. Whatever the reason had been, I would have to consider that fact now as I asked for his beloved sister's hand. I would need to be even more respectful, more humble. The fact that he's a _king_ made his presence all the more frightening.

Wait, that would make Éowyn the queen.

My beloved, the tomboyish white Lady was Queen of Rohan. I thought I would've fainted. This thought boggled my mind. I really don't know why none of this had occurred to me. What would this new information mean for Éowyn and my future? Was I anywhere worthy enough to marry a queen? Perhaps if I accepted Boromir's offer. Then I would be a steward, which would be a step up from my current station as captain of the guard. From the way Boromir asked me to take up his position, it sounded like he would be happy already to be captain of the guard. It's like I'm doing him a favour, when really, he's doing me a favour.

"Faramir." Éomer's still strict voice pulled me away from my racing thoughts. He directed me to a chair as he sat in front of me on the bed. He sat cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees. I sat down clumsily, forcing myself to breath as I tugged at my tunic nervously. ( must've looked like a fool. This is certainly not a way to address a king, of whom his _sister_ would be my betrothed if he allows me.

"So what is it you wish to speak about, Faramir?" His stern eyes glared at me from behind his windswept blond hair, sending yet another chill down my back. I knew. I knew right now, that if I foul up, I will never live this down.

I opened my mouth to speak, surprised at how quickly my throat had closed up. "I believe you know what it is I would ask of you, yet I shall ask it just the same." I replied to him, startled at how firm my voice sounded. I was sure it would crack. "I love your sister very much. She is the most beautiful, intelligent, and loving woman I have ever met. Indeed, I have loved her since I first set eyes on her in the Golden Halls. Her strong spirit and graceful strength have completely beguiled me and I know that I shall never look at, much less love another woman. Her very presence has helped heal my weary and worn soul, especially after all that has happened." I lifted my head and stared into his eyes, my courage rising as I spoke. I could see Éowyn's face, and hear her gentle laughter echoing in my mind. Nothing else matters anymore, for she is worth any pain and beyond. "I`ve come to ask you for your permission to marry her, and I ask you for your blessing."


	62. Fighting Orcs Would Be Easier

_A/N: As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading._

The sound of the words I had spoken had long dissipated before Éomer made any move. He just sat staring at me, never blinking. It was truly unnerving. His hair had fallen around his face so that it covered most of his face, making only the glow of his eyes visible; it also made it impossible to read his expression. The silence in the room hung around me oppressively, threatening to overwhelm and crush me. At last, he rose from the bed and turned from me, walking to the far wall, and making as though to study the beautifully embroidered Rohirrim banner. His rigid stance threatened to crush what little hope I still had.

"Do you truly love her so much?" Éomer's deep voice was so quite that I thought I had imagined it. I rose slowly from my chair and tediously made my way over to where he stood.

"I do, I love her that much and so much more. Should you deny me the honor of marrying her I shall never marry another. For the love I have for her is too strong to die. Should we never see each other again I should dream of her every night to keep the memory of her alive." I had reached Éomer by now and turned so that I was facing his side. He continued to gaze at the banner as I spoke. My words probably sounded ridiculous to him but they came from my very heart. Though I had known her for such a short time, she meant more to me than my very life. This thought inspired me and I continued my declaration.

"I would lay down my own life to preserve hers without a seconds thought. I should be happy to just spend the rest of my life learning everything about her. I could live on her laughter and smiles; I should thrive if I were lucky enough to have her as my wife."

I could swear I heard Éomer suppress a light chuckle as he answered me. "Well, Faramir, it does indeed sound as though she has stolen your heart." He turned around and faced me, and he was smiling. "You will be happy to know that you have stolen her heart as well. Last night when we spoke, she told me in non-uncertain terms that should I deny you the right to court her she would. How did she say it?" He titled his head to the right and looked in the distant. "Ah, yes. She would 'beat me with my own sword and court you anyway.'"

My heart leapt at that news and I fairly well near did a back flip. It was only with the greatest restraint that I could contain my excitement. Éomer took a step towards me and laid a hand on my arm.

"I should be honored to have you as a brother Faramir. I give you permission to marry her Faramir. Go with my blessing and ask her – I assure you the answer will be yes."

I have no idea how I got out of that tent. Indeed, I'm not even sure how I managed to find my way back to Aragorn's and my tent. All I remember is frantically looking through my belongings trying to remember where I had put my mother's ring. If only I could detect that delicate twinkle of the sapphire upon a glittering gold...After Éomer gave me permission I found myself gripped with a new, far worse panic. Fighting off ten Orcs seemed easier. I was about to ask the love of my life, whom I had met less than a month ago, if she would marry me. But what if she said no? How would I go on? I know that Éomer believed I didn't have anything to worry about, but what if he was wrong? I was going through my clothes for the third time, fighting back a wave of hysteria when I heard Aragorn's voice.

"Faramir." He said in the manner of one who has had to repeat themselves several times. I lifted my head up and looked over at the front of the tent. He was standing in the entrance with his right hand holding the tent flap up and his other hand hanging limply at his side. He had a soft smile on and his eyes were merry.

"Yes?' I asked my voice tight with tension.

He walked forward into the tent, letting the flap fall shut behind him as he walked up to me. "Mellon, you need to calm down." I was sure that he repeated that several times before I answered. I fought back the urge to snap at my friend and king as I responded.

"I can't calm down. I got Éomer's permission, but now I can't find the ring." I sat down on the bed and rested my head in my hands in utter defeat. Yes, I was happy that I now have his blessings, but a great despair hung over me. I couldn't ask Éowyn to marry me, not now. I was far too worried. I could hardly even breathe. What did I have to offer her? I had no great station; I was simply a Captain of the Guard. Surely, Éowyn would wish to marry someone higher in status. She always wanted to be a great queen.

"Faramir." Aragorn's gentle voice drew me out of my panicked thoughts and made me aware of where I was again. "Éowyn loves you, Mellon. She will marry you." He was standing in front of me and had a small smile on his face. He looked as though he were remembering a fond memory.

"What are you thinking of Aragorn?" I asked quietly. Maybe his memory would help me find peace. He brought his eyes back to mine and sat down on the bed so that we were facing each other. His eyes were bright with obvious happiness as he sat down. His body was at ease; unlike it had been ever sense I had known him. Gone were the tension of the war and the burden of being king. Truly this must have been a superb memory.

"I was recalling the time I asked my beloved if she would marry me."


	63. Destiny of the King

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire for beta reading this!_

"Our love story began the day after Lord Elrond first told me of my true lineage. I was walking alone in the woods when I suddenly came upon a beautiful maiden. I hastened forward amazed, thinking I had strayed into a dream. The maiden was none other than Arwen, Elrond's daughter, also called Undómiel. I beheld the Elven-light in her eyes and the wisdom of her kin. It is clear to any living creature that Elves are known for their grace, beauty, and knowledge, but this maiden had something much more than that. Something that no one would dare belittle. Without a doubt, I fell in love with her in an instant.

"I was quite for a while after meeting her. In that brief meeting, I had decided that I should never marry a woman who is less than she is. Lord Elrond later on told me the following:

_"Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Lord of the Dúnedain, listen to me! A great doom awaits you,_ _either do rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into_ _darkness with all that is left of your kin. Many years of trial lie before you, you shall neither_ _have a wife, nor bind any woman to you in troth, until your time comes and you are found worthy of it!"_

His eyes then were nothing short of despair and misery as he spoke the next piece of the tale. "He then explained to me that when he, Elrond, would leave the world he hoped his daughter to join him so, a marriage would never be possible.

"I left Rivendell the next day and went into the wilderness. Almost 30 years I wandered through Middle-Earth, most of the time alone. It was during this period that I met, and became a friend of Gandalf the White. I also fought in many wars.

"When I was 49 years old I came to the borders of Lórien and was admitted to the hidden land by the Lady Galadriel. I had been traveling through Mordor and had acquired many injuries, both physical and mental.

"I did not know it, but Arwen was there too and when we met again for the first time after our long parting. We fell in love over the next few weeks, gradually becoming inseparable. She helped heal me, and I fell even more deeply in love.

"For some time we wandered together in the glades of Lórien and on the evening of midsummer we went to the fair hill, Cerin Amroth. Upon this hill, we looked east to the Shadow, where Mordor laid, and west to the twilight, where Rivendell and the Grey Heavens laid. I had been preparing myself for weeks to ask her, but I was a complete wreck. I was so nervous, I would have rather fought all the legions of Mordor than ask her. Yet somehow, I did. I had set up a small picnic on the hill. When we finished our food we leaned against a tree and watched as the sun set. She was leaning against my chest humming a melody, one that I did not know. In that moment, I knew I could do it. I knew that she was my only love, would always be my only love. What else could I do but ask her? Therefore, I gently set her up and turned so I could kneel before her. Grasping her fair hands in mine, I asked her to wed me.

Aragorn is a true storyteller, and as I love stories, this made this true tale even more enticing. This clever King had to pause for a bit to recall that precious moment, and left me hanging there. Do forgive me, but I would have hit him on the head if he were not the King of Gondor.

When he thought it was a good time to continue, he chuckled at my exasperated expression. "She accepted saying, "I will cleave to you, Dúnedain and turn from the twilight." She gave up everything to be my wife. She gave up her immortality, and her promise of going to Valinor."

Here Aragorn's narrative stopped, and his face fell. Leaning forward I grasped his arm. "She gave it up for her love, Aragorn. Arwen had been alive hundreds of years before she met you. She had lifetimes to choose whom she would wed. She chose you Aragorn; she did not idly make that decision. She would not doubt her choice, nor should you." He gave me a small grateful smile at that. A thought popped into my head and I found myself laughing.

"What is so funny?" He asked curiously. I smiled broadly, as an image filled my mind.

"I was terrified of asking Éomer's permission to wed his sister. You had to ask Lord Elrond's permission, I can't imagine what that would have been like!" He leant his head back and let out a loud laugh.

"Twas not something I would like to do again. It was probably the scariest thing I ever did. He said he would allow the marriage, but only if I became king of Gondor and Arnor. When I return to Gondor, I will have accomplished all that I set out too. Then I may marry her." His eyes shone happily, as he looked at me. He sat up a little suddenly, a thought dawning on his face.

"Your ring!" He gasped.

"Where?" I exclaimed quickly, looking all around. He hopped up off the bed and dove underneath mine. A moment later, he emerged, bearing the precious ring in his hands. I let out a happy yelp and grasped the ring in my hands. I risked a quick look outside and noted that the moon was now high in the sky. It was far too late to ask Éowyn tonight. For some reason, it felt like an impending doom has passed, but a lingering feel of eagerness still stays. How confusing it is! Half of me felt like wrenching the warring emotions away from my heart, and yet the other half of me firmly states that it would rather have them stay there. Something told me to go with the latter.

As though sensing my thoughts Aragorn rose and sat on his bed. "Sleep Mellon, sleep and rest up for tomorrow. You shall need your energy if you are to ask Éowyn to wed you."

I smiled softly as I lay down to sleep. Tomorrow I would ask her.


	64. Will You Marry Me?

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this. I haven't posted recently because I've been going to the doctors a lot, I'm preganant! Anywaay, here is the next chapter :D _

April 3

Well, I must say, proposing took quite a bit longer than I ever expected it would. Nevertheless, it was really all my fault. During the middle of the night, I was hit with an incredible inspiration, and I simply had it to carry out my newly developed plan. It just took a lot longer to prepare than I thought it would.

In order for my plan to work, I needed much help. Over the last few, anxious days, I have pulled in all the friends I have in this camp, but it worked. After much explaining, they broke into wide grins and bid me good luck as they carried out my wishes. This morning I gathered everything together and prepared a special picnic for my beloved. I then found Éowyn and asked her to accompany me for a late breakfast. She accepted and we set out for the hidden grove that I found earlier this week. A secluded clearing was hidden away about a half mile from the camp. Trees, of several varieties, surrounded the clearing, which was incredibly surprising to find due to how close we were to Mordor. In the center of the clearing I had set up a simple picnic, I had a cream blanket beneath our simple breakfast of fruit, cheese, and wine – I know it was early to be drinking but it was a special occasion. However, what truly made the scene spectacular was what surrounded the picnic.

Rock Rose.

Thousands of the beautiful rock roses were lying about the ground. Their yellow glow reverberates as if the sun's light resides within their petals. I had summoned all my friends in the camp, which ended up being most everyone but Éowyn and asked that they look for the plant. They had all set out and found far more than I had ever hoped for. Truly, the fact that all my friends, even Gandalf and Aragorn, would search for Rock Rose for me left me nearly breathless with gratitude. Never could I have pulled off this magnificent scene if it had not been for them. Even Gimli, who grunted his way through, muttering about the hassles of young love even managed to pull up at least – I don't know how many, more than twelve bunches of Rock Roses? It was then Legolas encouraged the task by besting him with fifteen. There were so many, and many of my friends, including the hobbits ending up laughing as the arguing duo raced throughout the gardens, searching for Rock Roses beyond Éowyn's knowing. I must admit, I owe Legolas a favour for that incredible deed, but he simply said that Gimli could be goaded in any challenge that he proposed, and it was good fun for him anyway.

Éowyn's face upon entering the clearing was truly remarkable. Never had I seen her eyes so alive. She had been walking with me, laughing at some silly joke I had told her, when we broke through the woods. She stopped short and just gaped at the scene, her mouth hung open in utter surprise. She stood in that shocked position for a moment before her mouth broke out in the most magnificent grin and she tackled me with and incredible hug –one that knocked me to the ground.

"Faramir! My favorite flower!" She exclaimed, grasping my chest in a tight hug. "Thank you so much!" She then gave me a quick kiss on the lips before she leap up and started running around the clearing, giggling and smelling the flowers. I smiled no less brightly than she and rose, walking up next to her.

"Come, beloved; let us eat the breakfast before something else does." She smile happily and allowed me to lead her to the blanket, hand in hand. We sat next to each other and ate pleasantly, little conversation filling the picturesque scene. The fruit was marvellous, never had I tasted anything as juicy and flavorful as that. Perhaps it was the golden flowers, but I believe it was because I no longer felt nervous about what I was about to do.

After Éowyn had eaten her fill, I bid her listen to what I wished to ask her. I knelt in front of her and grasped her hand, marvelling at how it was no longer as cold as it had once been. Holding the warm fingers gently I began to stroke them with my thumb as I spoke.

"Éowyn, it has been a month since I first beheld you, since I first partook of your beauty. On that day that I first saw you, I knew that I should never think anyone on this earth was fairer. Nor should I ever cease thinking of you." I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall as I thought of all that had happened in that fateful meeting, and all that had happened since. "Yet we were parted before we had the chance to speak, to get to learn about one another. However, we were both injured during the fateful battle of Pelennor fields and were reunited, with a powerful bond. For we had both lost a loved one and feared to lose another." I looked at her beautiful blue eyes, so bright that they appeared as liquid crystal and continued. "From that moment in the garden I knew that I loved you Éowyn, Éomund's daughter, and I knew that only you could heal my spirit." Grasping her hand, I leaned towards her and finished. "I love you desperately Éowyn, you have healed my spirit and captured my heart. Will you marry me?" As I finished my question, I held out the elegant ring and felt Boromir's strong presence as I did so. I had laid it in a bed of Rock Rose petals and it made the delicate sapphire gem seem to sparkle even more. How strange its twinkle, as if it was winking at me, foretelling about the good fortunes to come.

The sun broke out from behind a cloud and shone down on her so that her white dress and fair gold hair glowed in its brilliant light. No longer did she look like the ice queen that I had first met in the golden hall, now she looked like a star that Varda herself had transformed into a beautiful woman, for even that could not have appeared more beautiful or glowed more bright.

"Faramir," She spoke, her eyes shining as she smiled at me, "I no longer desire to be a queen, I shall marry you, beloved, and become a healer, for I too have been healed and would bring to others what you have brought to me."


	65. Jail Break!

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

April 4th

After Eowyn said yes to me we spent the rest of the day in that beautiful clearing, talking about our future and enjoying each others company. We returned late in the evening and were greeted with a congratulations feast. Our friends had setup a table and chairs in Pippins tent where we all ate together. Even Pippin was feeling well enough to join in and sit at the table with us. Everyone who had helped me through the week was there, and they all were in grand moods. We sat around the table late into the night, relishing each others friendship and the fact that we were fortunate enough to once again all be together again. If only Frodo and Sam would awaken then our happiness could truly be complete. As I sat and ate I couldn't help but look at all the friends who had made such an incredible impact on my life. Who had made my life so much more fun and worth while. On the end of the table near Aragorn Gimli was debating with Legolas that dwarves were better brewers than the elves-to which Legolas was hartily disagreeing. Eomer was sitting by Damrod, and they were discussing the finer points of horse riding, a subject they oddly had in common. Pippin and Merry were talking to Elrond's son with a positively mischievous look on their faces. A momentary sense of alarm filled me and I found myself wondering what the notorious pranksters were planning. Pippin caught me staring and gave me an innocent smile, which just alarmed me more. None the less I looked on down the table. Gandalf was discussing something about the white tree with Aragorn, who looked tired, but still had the happy look that I was beginning to grow accustomed to. Eowyn was sitting beside me, and like me she was just staring at everyone with a happy expression on her face. It was just a happy moment. The strangest thing was probably that I knew we could have a lot more like it. That Sauron was dead. That was still a seriously surreal thought-I could hardly believe it was true. This happiness in this moment could last with out threat of war.

We went to bed hours later, after all the food had been eaten and all the liquid had been drunk. I was awakened early by Merry, he wanted me to help him take Pippin around the camp. I agreed and got dressed, following him outside of the tent. I found Pippin wide awake in his tent, with Legolas watching him. He had the elf in a chair reading a story from some book he had found. It was amazing what Pippin could get people to do. He could get us to do anything for him, all he had to do was smile and ask and even Gandalf would do his every bidding. I smiled to myself as Merry announced our presence to the reading Elf. Legolas smiled at us and rose from the chair.

"I'll finish the story later Peregrin." He bowed gracefully and left the room with a knowing smile. I found myself growing slightly alarmed by this but I managed to appear completely calm. I walked up to Pippins bed, which he was sitting up in, with a look of utter glee on his face. Smiling I knelt down beside his bed and laid my arms on his bed, resting my head in them as I stared at his happy face. I had learned long ago that hobbits liked, and felt more comfortable when ever a 'big' folk bent down to their height. It helped them not feel so small and didn't cause them to strain there neck by peering up at us.

"So what do you want to do today Pippin?" I asked, smiling at the mischievous sparkle that lit up his happy eyes.

"I want to go explore around the camp!" he said, bouncing in his bed as he spoke. I widened my eyes in surprise. Not that I was surprised he wanted to explore, I could hardly blame him, he had been bed bound for the entirety of this camp. I just hadn't thought he would try and get me to bust him out of his 'prison' as he had taken to calling this tent. I looked at his eyes and they were so full of hope and longing that I actually found myself considering it. Aragorn said that he was healing beautifully, that it would probably only be a few days before he could be well enough to do most anything he pleased. Perhaps I could let him go exploring. Yes, I believe I would.

"Very well Pippin, I shall take you exploring, but you will have to be quite about it!" I said warningly his eyes grew large with happiness and he started to bounce even higher in his bed- though he was still sitting, I never could figure out how he managed to do that. I rose up and loosened my cape, which I had decided to wear for some reason, apparently it was so I could sneak a hobbit around the camp. I let my cape fall around my shoulders, covering my body completely in its depths. Merry had run over to the tents entrance and was making sure no one was coming. I grabbed a spare pillow from the table and set it beside Pippin, picking him up in one hand, careful not to disturb any of his bandages, or squeeze his injured arm and side; I settled the blanket around the pillow so that it appeared to be a sleeping hobbit. I marveled at how close in size the pillow was to the curled up sleeping Pippin and wondered if Pippin had requested that pillow for this specific purpose. I grasped Pippin more firmly in my arm and then laid my cape over him so that he could not be seen. It looked as though I were merely caring some laundry, not an overly excitable hobbit. Merry looked over at us from his post by the entrance and giggled happily.

"You can't tell you have him at all Faramir!" I smiled at him as I felt Pippin laugh against my side. Luckily I couldn't hear him though. Merry held back the tent flap as we exited the tent, looking nervously around to make sure no one saw us. Thank the Valar it was an unusually cool day, less someone would have wondered why I was wearing a cape on such a day. Noting that no one was around I bent my head down to where I presumed Pippins head to be and quietly asked where he wished to go. I felt him take a deep breath, and then heard him reply;

"To Frodo and Sam."


	66. Hobbit Traditions

_A/N: As always, thanks to Sapphire for beta reading._

I instantly felt a wave of sympathy wash over me as I heard his quiet response. The poor hobbit! He had seen nothing of the two hobbits. He probably didn't really even believe they were alive. I know I would have had trouble believing it. I had seen them the very day after I had arrived, but poor Pippin had been bedridden. I squeezed him slightly against me, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know I understood.

"Of course Pippin." I walked straight to their tent, avoiding all I could whilst doing so. Unfortunately, there were two healers in their tent when I arrived, so that we had to wait about five minutes to be alone. Pippin was practically shaking with anticipation and I found myself remembering the long dark of Moria, where we had so often had to carry the poor hobbits across seemingly endless pits. The healers finally left, gave us a nod, and we quietly walked up to the injured hobbits bed. Both were covered up to their necks with warm wool blankets, but you could still see where they were bandaged. Frodo had scratches all across his face, and a bandage covering his hand where he had lost his finger. He had suffered a broken rib, along with several deep cuts, burns of varying degrees, and strange puncture marks on his neck. Sam had several bruised ribs, lots of cuts, and several burns as well. Both had lost a lot of weight since I had last seen them before the breaking of the Fellowship and both had been severely dehydrated.

Yet despite their many injuries, both hobbits had a look of utter peace upon their tanned faces. Looking down on them, I found myself wondering what they were dreaming of to cause them to look so content. The Shire perhaps? An uneasy squirm next to my chest reminded me of why I had come and caused me to shrug my cape off my shoulders. Pippin blinked at the sudden brightness of the light as I gently lowered him onto their bed. His face grew utterly still and he froze as he looked at his dear cousin and friend. Feeling as though I were spying on something private I retreated to the tents entrance, keeping guard while Pippin and Merry beheld their beloved cousin and loyal friend.

A good while layer I felt a tug on my cape while I stared outside. I had only seen one healer, whom I told that Frodo and Sam were quite content. She had left me to myself, probably secretly knowing what I was doing. I turned around and saw Pippin smiling up at me. His cheeks were slightly damp but he looked honestly happy.

I picked him up gently and hid him within my cape. Merry helped me recover him and straighten my cloak. He gave me a small smile before he turned to leave the tent. Pippin gripped my tunic in a fierce hug and whispered a heartfelt 'thanks' into my chest. I smiled to myself as I set off to his tent once again. We arrived without having met anyone, for which I was extremely grateful. I carefully released Pippin, setting him back upon his bed. I had no sooner set him down than whom else but Aragorn should walk into the tent. I smiled widely and had to bite back a laugh, we had come exceptionally close to being caught. I winked at Pippin who looked positively giddy. I made up an excuse and exited the tent. Merry met me outside and we began to walk together. It reminded me of our many days together in the house of healing, feeling both familiar and comforting.

We walked to the border of the camp, sitting down in front of a gentle stream that ran alongside the southern border of our camp. We settled down on a rather large rock and just stared at the gentle running water. After a moment of companionable silence, Merry spoke.

"Thanks Faramir. You've no idea how much that meant to him." His voice was soft and sincere. I smiled to myself as I continued to stare at the water.

"It's amazing isn't it." I said quietly, more to myself than him. "How we all managed to make it through so much. I never thought the Fellowship could do all we had set out for." Merry nodded in agreement.

"I couldn't believe Elrond allowed us to come along. I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew that Frodo was going on some quest to destroy Bilbo's ring, and I didn't want him to go without me. None of us did. If we'd known what we were getting into we probably wouldn't have been so excited." He looked thoughtfully at the water.

"But I probably still would have gone." He said laughing slightly. "Despite everything, I've had fun. I wouldn't trade this journey for anything." I nodded my head in complete agreement.

We sat in silence for a while longer. The sun began to set and I began to think of how we would need to be returning to camp soon.

I stretched slightly, trying to enliven my stiff muscles. Merry snorted suddenly and I looked at him in surprise. He looked over at me and gave me a wicked grin. "Plus, if we hadn't gone on this journey you would have never met Éowyn." After a moment, I realized he was continuing our conversation from earlier. However, I never got a chance to reply to him. At that moment, a loud whistle was sounded from behind me and I jumped, unsheathing my sword as I did so. Merry fell off the rock with a resounding 'thump' and broke out in a fit of laughter. Three elves came charging out of the woods, followed by three men, a dwarf, and a wizard – who was holding a giggling hobbit. I was grabbed by the elves and thrown into the waist deep stream. It was unbelievably cold, but I was more shocked than cold. I came spluttering up out of the water. My clothes soaked and my hair splayed about my face. All my friends, were laughing, watching me climb out of the stream. Aragorn, Éomer, and Damrod were beside Merry, laughing so hard that tears filled their eyes. Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir, were standing on the edge of the stream, their musical laughter filling the air as they beheld my now thoroughly soaked self. Gandalf was still holding Pippin, who had broken down into a full fledge giggle fit. Even my dear old wizard friend was laughing in merriment, his hoarse laugh mingling with the rough laugh of Gimli. I stood on the bank of the stream staring at my friends in complete and utter bewilderment. I seriously could not tell whether I should be embarrassed or laughing with them. They finally sobered up enough to explain. Merry sat up, for he had been laughing on the ground, and smiled broadly at me.

"That was so funny!" He neatly dodged my grabbing hands. I snorted in disagreement, shaking my head to rid my ears of the water in them. Aragorn came to my rescue, handing me a towel as he grasped my shoulder.

"We owe you an explanation." I looked at him fighting back the urge to say 'you'd better.' He smiled heartedly and clapped my back before dropping his arm. "It was Pippin's idea. Apparently, there is a long-standing tradition in Tookland. Whenever an engagement is announced the groom is thrown into the river in Tookbank." I looked over at Pippin who was still giggling.

So that was what the hobbits had been discussing with Elladan and Elrohir yesterday during dinner. A though occurred to me and I turned back to Merry.

"I thought Hobbits disliked water?" I asked. He smiled and nodded his head in agreement.

"We do!" he said earnestly. "But a Took don't mind water. They even occasionally fish!" They all broke down laughing again and I found myself joining in. To be honest, I was touched. It was incredibly sweet to think that Pippin wanted to include me into a family tradition. Aragorn, still laughing lightly grasped me and gave me a small hug.

"Come Mellon, let's get you dry."


	67. Speechless

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire for beta reading this!_

April 8th

It's extremely late yet I find myself once again unable to sleep until I have written down all my thoughts. Today has been a truly wondrous day. It started like most every other: I was awoken by the Hobbits, Pippin was declared fully recovered yesterday, and dragged out of bed to entertain them. We had a quick breakfast, it was their second, and then set about the camp to see if there was anything we could do. We played a few games or draught with Éomer, which Pippin won. At around noon we got a summons from Aragorn, he wanted us to come see him in Frodo and Sam's tent. Pippin and Merry instantly assumed the worst, as did I, and we rushed to the tent. Though it was no more than thirty yards away, it felt as though we had run fifty leagues. My heart was constricted and I couldn't seem to breathe normally. I couldn't stop the thoughts running through my head either. I kept hearing a voice saying: _They're __dead. Sauron beat them, it was all for not. _I couldn't get rid of the horrible thought; I just kept feeling this consuming dread. I felt like it was me in and of myself that had caused this horrible revelation. We reached the tent and stood in front of it as one group. Merry was holding tightly to Pippin who was shaking uncontrollably. He looked up at me with pleading eyes, and I knew he needed me to open the flap, that he couldn't do it himself. I forced my thoughts to quiet and raised my shaking hand. Grasping the flap firmly I lifted the thick fabric, knowing I could never brace myself for what I would find on the other side.

And there was no way I expected to see what I saw.

The moment the flap lifted Pippin let out a strangled squeak and Merry burst out into tears. My heart dropped as I lifted the flap high enough for myself to see. However, I found myself stunned by the sight. I saw not two dying, or dead hobbits. But two happy, hungry hobbits who were sitting up in bed eating a chunk of bread. Aragorn was behind them, gently rubbing Frodo's neck while the starving hobbits attacked their bread. Frozen in shock I watched numbly as Pippin and Merry ran past me and jumped onto the bed, tackling the two hobbits. Frodo let out a clear, loud laugh and I found myself moving towards the bed. My eyes sought out Aragorn's and found him, smiling happily, as he observed the joyous reunion. I heard a loud clap behind me and was nearly knocked over by a joyous dwarf running by me, grabbing the nearest hobbit in an enormous embrace. He had to let go of course when there was this strange choking noise coming from Sam, who was still devouring that piece of bread. I felt a light hand on my shoulder and looked to see that it was Legolas, followed by Gandalf. Looking around the room, I couldn't believe my eyes. The fellowship was finally, and truly, complete again. We had all made it; we had _beaten_ Sauron as a group. We did together what none alone could accomplish. We'd completed every task set before us save one. We only had to crown Aragorn as King and then everything we ever hoped for as a fellowship will be completed.

A huge smile covering my entire face took over and I felt myself walking towards the rest of my fellowship. I hoped onto the bed with Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, and Gimli and firmly gave everyone I could reach an enormous hug. Legolas joined in immediately encompassing the other side of the fellowship in a huge hug. Gandalf gave a last _harrumph_ and then joined in on the hug. We all held each other for a few moments before we finally let Frodo and Sam get a breath of air. We spent the next moments examining, them making sure they were well. Once reassured of their health we immediately bombarded them with questions and stories of what all they had missed, everyone speaking at once. Gandalf got off the full bed and let out the full volume of his deep voice be heard.

"Hold on!" He bellowed, and every one instantly quieted. He retained his gruff appearance but his eyes sparkled merrily as he continued. "We all have a lot of catching up to do but no one shall learn a thing if we all speak at once. Now Aragorn has arranged for a feast tonight, where we shall hear Frodo and Sam's tale in full. Now, you may continue to tell them what has happened to y'all while they were gone. But please do so one at a time. I believe Merry and Pippin should start, and then stop when they reach the part with the Entmoot. At that point, you four should pick up the tale up to the ending of the battle of helms deep. Then you two may continue and so forth." With those last words, he sat down on a chair at the foot of the bed and grabbed out his pipe. Lighting it with a look of one who is waiting to hear a good story. Everyone looked over to Pippin and Merry expectantly, both of whom surprisingly blushed.

"Well, um…" Merry started.

"We don't know where to start!" Pippin exclaimed. I smiled and nudged him in the side.

"I do not believe it!" I gazed at Gandalf in pretend surprise. "You've made them speechless." Pippin lightly punched me in the arm while everyone else laughed. I took that moment to whisper the word 'ruins' in Pippins ear. Giving him the idea to start with the moment after Frodo and Sam left. He got a big grin and mouthed the word 'thank you' before motioning for everyone to be quiet.


	68. Telling the Tale

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

"Well, while you and Sam escaped to the eastern shore, we were left with the rather difficult task of getting away from the Uruk-hai. They were everywhere! Merry and I tried to hide from them but they followed us relentlessly. We ran through the woods until we came upon a clearing, the one that was in Faramir's dream." He looked at me, his eyes showing he was reliving the horror of that moment when we realized where we were. He did a good job of masking it before anyone other than me and Merry noticed though.

"Merry and I started to fight when Faramir suddenly appeared. He slew a bunch of them but got shot by the leader of the Uruk-hai – and me and Merry were taken."

"Those days were terrible, we won't go over them. Suffice to say that the Uruk-hai kept us alive, but only just. They set up a camp outside of Fangorn Forest, a beautiful forest that reminded me of the Old Forest in the shire." Merry stopped his narration for a moment and gave a smile to Sam and Frodo, as though there was some story the four hobbits shared about that forest. I found myself wondering what it could be as he continued his tale.

"That night the camp was attacked by horsemen, Pippin and I managed to escape into the forest, but we were followed by a rather persistent Orc. We made to hide in a tree, but the Orc grabbed me and pulled me away before I could get in it. Then the most incredible thing happened."

"The tree came alive!" Pippin burst out excitedly, bouncing in his seat again. While Gandalf laughed heartily, the rest of us was quite taken aback. I heard Gimli muttering about a whole grove of trees that appeared out of nowhere one time. 'Unnatural', he said, and I had to agree. Merry gave him a quick glare and a playful shove for ruining the surprise. However, I think that either way, the effect was much the same. I couldn't stop staring. Moving trees? What a revelation.

"Yes, the tree came alive. It squished the Orc and then grabbed me and Pippin." He leaned forward and looked at Frodo with ill hidden glee. I still had a hard time imagining what they're saying. "It was an Ent! His name was Treebeard."

"He didn't know what hobbits were though; he thought we were some kind of Orc!" Pippin interrupted, indignation written all over his face. Frodo and Sam managed to hide their laughter and looked properly annoyed.

"Anyway," Merry said, taking back over the tale. "Treebeard took us to see the white wizard, which turned out to be Gandalf." He grinned at the wizard before continuing. "You can imagine how much that surprised us."

"Anyway," Pippin interrupted Merry again. "Treebeard took us to the middle of the forest and called all the other Ents together."

"Yep, and after a long contemplation on whether or not we really were Hobbits and then whether we were friends, or foes, Treebeard persuades the Ent council to go to war against Saruman!" Merry stated the rest of the tale in one long, uninterrupted breath effectively cutting Pippin off. Pippin faked a hurt look and glanced at Aragorn. I thought that that was an unusual way to end a story like that, but Hobbits are Hobbits, I supposed, and I feel that the others are anxious to share their tales.

"Well, I guess it's your turn now."

Aragorn smiled and took up the tale with where Pippin and Merry had been kidnapped.

"I happened upon the clearing moments after Merry and Pippin had been taken. Faramir had been gravely injured by a nasty Uruk-hai named Ugluk… We finished him off and tended to Faramir's wound before the four of us headed after Merry and Pippin. We trailed them endlessly for days, until we came upon a group of Éorlings." He smiled at the memory of our first encounter. I found myself joining him. It had been intense at the time, but now that we were all friends, the situation could be looked at just as comical.

"They told us they had found the Uruk-hai we were searching for and killed everything in their camp – we obviously assumed the worst. They gave us horses and we rode hastily to the camp. They had burned the bodies, but we couldn't find Merry and Pippin." In the quietest background, I could scarcely hear Pippin mutter a 'Sorry' and Merry mumble a 'Well, we were being chased, weren't we, eh Pip?' I caught their eye and winked. "We then happened upon a trail, and discovered the two had run off into the forest. We followed their trail the next morning, but we didn't find them. Instead we found Gandalf." He smiled at the old wizard in clear admiration.

"He told us of how he had survived the Balrog, a tale I will let him tell you later, and had been sent back to us. He took us to Rohan where we restored the king to his right mind." We all grew silent for a moment. It was the first time any of us had mentioned Théoden. A feeling of utter sadness crept up on me as I thought of all that he would miss. Aragorn continued his story but I no longer heard it. My thoughts were still on Théoden. He would never get to see either his niece or nephew marry. He wouldn't see their children or live to know the freedom from Sauron. He had been robbed of so much, robbed of a future he had a vital part in securing. And because of that, a pain of guilt seared my heart as I remembered my father, Denethor. If things had turned out differently, and had he not died, would he be just as proud of Boromir and I with our futures, just as we were sure that King Théoden would of Éowyn and Éomer?

Looking down I noticed that Merry had grasped my hand secretly. He was staring at me with knowing eyes. I had forgotten how much he loved Théoden – that the two had shared an uncanny bond. It relieved me to know that I was not alone in the Fellowship with this sadness.

Merry let go of my hand and continued their part of the tale. I hadn't been listening so I had missed the entire Battle of Helm's Deep.

"The Ents had completely destroyed Isengard, it was amazing. They took control of the property and locked Saruman in his black tower. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Faramir, Gandalf, Théoden, and everyone else came a few days later. Gandalf had a long talk with Saruman and ended up breaking the white wizard's staff."

"It was really neat!" Pippin interjected.

"Yes, but what happened next was not." Gandalf inserted sternly, making Pippin blush.

"He, Saruman, had tossed a palantír at us – an ancient orb designed to let the Númenor see across the kingdom, there are only three known, and one was with Sauron." I said, explaining the palantír as simply as I could.

"Pippin found it on the ground and grabbed it, intending to give it to Gandalf. Unfortunately, the palantír have away of ensnaring those who hold them with an insatiable curiosity. He went back and grabbed it again after we had all gone to bed. Sauron spoke with him and attempted to secure information from him. Luckily, Gandalf intervened before anything could be given away. Unfortunately, Sauron had already sent servants to obtain Pippin. Gandalf, Pippin, and I rode off to Minas Tirith to prepare them for war while everyone else headed for Rohan."

"Yeah, it was really neat, Minas Tirith is beautiful!" Pippin interjected as I continued my narrative. I briefly described the reunion with my brother, skipping most everything about my father. I then quickly told of our brief attempt at recapturing Osgiliath and defending Minas Tirith from Mordor's army. Aragorn then picked up and told an extremely brief version of their trip to Minas Tirith. I suspected he didn't want to tell the two hobbits much about the path of the dead less he remind them of Mordor.

"After the battle Faramir and I had to stay in the house of healing while everyone else got to head back out to Mordor." Merry stated after Aragorn explained how we won the battle of Pelennor Fields and the battle in front of the gates of Mordor. He gave me a teasing smile. "I think Faramir was secretly pleased about it. He got to spend a lot of time with Éowyn." I playfully smacked him on the arm as everyone else but Frodo and Sam laughed. They looked confused. Pippin must have noticed because he quickly explained.

I must admit, Pippin can be just as blunt and brief as he is mischievous. "Éowyn was the niece of Théoden; Faramir really liked her, but never got a chance to talk to her. Apparently they got along pretty well at the House of Healing, because now the two of them are engaged."

"Really?" Frodo and Sam said in disbelief. Sam and Frodo mouthed an awed 'Wow' But did I just see Merry and Pippin sneak sly glances at Sam? I think that he did not notice, but I should question the two of them later. I nodded, to both Frodo and Sam's congratulations, smiling; they both looked at me with surprised grins.

"We really missed out on a lot of things, right Mr. Frodo?" Sam whispered to his friend. Frodo agreed with a sigh.

"Yes, I asked Éowyn to marry me a few days ago. We shall be married in Minas Tirith after Aragorn's coronation." That started us talking about what we all planned on doing once we returned to Minas Tirith. I don't really remember much of what we spoke of, but it was a fun time. Everyone had fun and we had a chance to reconnect. It was fantastic to be able to spend time as a full Fellowship again.


	69. Rise as a Knight

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

We separated about two hours before the feast was scheduled, and began to prepare for it. I helped the servants set up the tables, which we arranged in three long rows, with the 'Kings' table at the end. After the tables were set up and arranged, I left to get dressed in attire that is more appropriate. I wore a pale sliver tunic, with white embroidery of the tree of Kings on the front, embellished with seven diamond stars. I wore dark blue pants, and black boots to accompany the silky top. I wore also a floor length cape of midnight blue, clasped with the leave of Lothlórien. Once I was dressed I joined my king, who was dressed in a similar fashion to me, yet he managed to look far more kingly in it than I. He was combing his hair, attempting to rid it of the tangles he acquired throughout our lengthy journey. He should have had a servant doing it but he preferred to do those sorts of things by himself – something I could sympathize with. I hated how I was expected to let other people do everything for me. It made one feel lazy, spoilt, and pompous. I liked to do things for myself, whether it was dressing, fixing my hair, or cleaning my room. I shook my head from my thoughts and looked over to the other side of the room. We had a surprise planned for Merry and Pippin, so I was not startled to see them sitting on Aragorn's bed.

'What's going on Faramir?" Pippin asked eagerly, putting on his best begging eyes. I laughed happily and shook my head. He would not be getting an answer out of me that easily. Not today at least, I certainly cannot deny that his eyes work on most everyone, least of all me. Another laugh escapes my smiling lips as I see the disappointment on his face.

"Rest easy Mellon, you have but only a little longer to wait before the secret shall be revealed." He raised an eyebrow at my formal sounding speech and I found myself smiling again.

"It is the clothes Master Peregrin." I said with my 'noble' voice, the one I reserved for grand occasions. "Whenever I wear silk I find myself speaking more formally.

Merry joined his cousin in raising his eyebrow. "Really?" He asked incredulously. I nodded my head and grinned. From somewhere behind me I heard Aragorn's disarming laugh, a sound I was beginning to hear far more often, something I was most glad of.

I felt his hand clap me on the back as he spoke. "I do the same, Mellon."

"The same what?" A familiar voice called from the tents entrance. We all looked and called out as one:

"Éomer!" He smiled broadly and stepped into the room. He inclined his head at each of us, saying our names in turn. He smiled broadly at the hobbits before he whispered something in Aragorn's ear. Pippin gave an annoyed humph while Merry shook his head saying that it was rude to whisper. I smiled and caught Aragon's eyes. He nodded and I turned my back on the hobbits, walking to the trunk at the foot of my bed I grabbed out three objects, two tunics and a small sword. I turned back to the hobbits, handing the sword to Éomer. Aragorn looked at Pippin and asked him to stand. Pippin complied looking slightly worried.

"Your sword Master Pippin." He said, his voice clear and commanding, giving a glimpse of the royalty he was descended from. Unsheathing the sword that Pippin reverently handed him a change came over Aragorn it had happened in an instant, when he unsheathed the sword he was filled with that incredible aura of majesty. It was amazing how fast my friend could take up the visage of the king he was born to be. In the moments when he let his power, majesty, or wisdom shine through he seemed almost otherworldly. Pippin stood before him in clear awestruck wonder. Aragorn looked down upon him, his grey eyes flashing with power of old. I shook off the engulfing awe and listened for my cue.

"Peregrin son of Paladin. I hereby recognize the honor and courage you have shown to the kingdom of Gondor. As reward for such outstanding fealty and homage I shall name you as a knight of the crown of Gondor." He smiled ever so softly as Pippin's eyes grew wide with delight and pride.

"Kneel, soldier of Gondor." He said softly. Pippin knelt before him, lowering his head humbly. Aragorn raised the sword and laid it on his right shoulder.

"Peregrin Took of the Shire. Do you here by swear fealty and homage to the Crown of Gondor; to ever be reverent and generous, to be a shield of the weak, to be obedient to your liege-lord, to be foremost in battle, to be courteous at all times, to be a champion of the right and the good?" He asked the young hobbit, his eyes never leaving Pippins.

"I Peregrin Took do thus swear." He said with his small voice strong and clear.

"Then rise, Sir Peregrin Took." Pippin rose, and gently took back the sword. His eyes brimming with tears he looked up at Aragorn with unhidden tears. Aragorn nodded at me and I gently knelt next to the hobbit.

"Congratulations Pippin, but to be a knight, you must also dress as one." I grabbed the first of my bundles, and held it out to him. He gently grabbed the deep blue tunic in shaky hands as he looked at the tree of Gondor neatly embroidered on the top. His eyes grew wide as he studied the simple design.

"This is your tunic, Faramir!" he exclaimed in wonder. I smiled and nodded my head.

"Tis the same one you had while at Gondor, though it has been repaired and the stitching redone. He giggled as he grasped it and then grabbed me in an encompassing embrace.

Merry had watched the whole exchange on the bed, pride, and love evident in his eyes as he watched the younger hobbit. Éomer watched the older hobbit with obvious adoration, though he clearly thought no one was watching. I almost wanted to my Éowyn, but I should spare him of some embarrassment.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck," His voice said softly as he looked at the hobbit. Merry raised his head in surprise and looked at the young king.

"My uncle, Theoden, would have knighted you had he the chance." A slight pause and sad silence followed for a second before he continued. "I should like to do the deed myself now." His eyes sparkled as he spoke. Merry rose from the bed in such disbelief his eyes never leaving Éomer's. He slowly knelt in front of Éomer as Éomer drew the sword I had handed him – Merry had no sword so Éomer had to give him a new one.

"Meriadoc, son of Saradoc Brandybuck, mindful of your prowess on the field, and responsive to the wishes of your peers, I shall make you a knight. Know that to wear the sword of a knight is to hold a sacred trust; that the obligations of knighthood will demand your efforts every moment of your life. A knight of Rohan must be respectful of all races, never offending the ways of another. A knight must respect all those who are weak or defenceless, whether because of age, infirmity, poverty, or vow, and be steadfast in defending them. A knight must love his Kingdom and his province, and fulfill most faithfully his feudal duties to his baron and his King. His word must be dependable beyond doubt or question. He must never flee from the face of his foes. He must be generous to all. Moreover, always, and everywhere, he must be the champion of the right and the good. Knowing what all it will require of you, do you hereby swear loyalty to the Crown of Rohan, and its people, from this day and forevermore, till your lord release you or death take you?"

Merry neither hesitated nor blinked as he looked at his new King.

"I, Meriadoc Brandybuck, do so swear."

"Then rise Knight of Rohan, and join the rank of Eorlings."

_A/N: Okay, I posted a one shot of Boromir reading Faramir's letter for the first time a while ago but for got to leave a note saying I did, Sorry!_


	70. Praise Them With Great Praise

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

Now clothed in equally elegant tunics the five us set out to join the others at the feast. We stepped out of the beech-grove in which our tents were set up, and passed on to a long green lawn, glowing in sunshine, bordered by stately dark-leaved trees laden with scarlet blossom. Behind us, I could hear the sound of falling water, and the stream which I had taken an unwilling bath in a few day ago. A happy smile filled my face at the memory as we continued through the greenwood at the lawn's foot and finally passed under an archway of trees, finally reaching the clearing where the feast was being held. The tables were surrounded by a sea of black and silver and green and gold. The knights and soldiers of both Gondor and Rohan, as well as several elves all stood up from the tables they had been seated at as Merry and Pippin walked in front of us, announcing both there Kings in turn. As the whole of the army rose, they bowed before Aragorn and Éomer, the proud Kings of Gondor and Rohan. The sight was more than any mere word can describe. Beyond the head table laid a broad river cast in a silver haze, out of which rose a long wooded isle, and many ships lay by its shores. It made a truly lovely backdrop to so spectacular a setting. They sat first, followed by Pippin, Merry, and myself. We sat at the head table along with the rest of the fellowship, Éowyn, and other officials. Once we were seated, a trumpet blast announced the guests of honor.

As one, we all stood as the two small hobbits walked in from the clearing, led by Gandalf. Frodo emerged first and looked around the standing men with not but shock on his face. Sam followed looking as though he to felt unworthy of our praise. We cheered all the louder as they continued to step forward. Crying out in one voice:

_'Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise!  
Cuio i Pheriain anann! Aglar'ni Pheriannath!  
Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!  
Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annûn! Eglerio!  
Praise them!  
Eglerio!  
A laita te, laita te! Andave laituvalmet!  
Praise them!  
Cormacolindor, a laita tárienna!  
Praise them! The Ring-bearers, praise them with great praise!' _

I thought that they couldn`t get any redder than they already were, so it was hard for me to stifle my laughter. Merry and Pippin, grinning, helped them into their seats and then sat beside them. Once seated, the cheering died down.

"Men, Elves, Dwarves, we are here met under one banner, one victory. For tonight's feast is for us all, tonight's joy is everyone's. We have defeated the evil of Sauron together, and together shall we remake this land. Come now, let the food be served and the feast begin!" Aragorn finished his speech with a gesture to the servants to bring the food. He then sat as the servers laid before us plate after plate of delicious food. Truly, I had not realized my own hunger before I was served. I ate everything with great relish, earning a laugh from Éowyn who said I reminded her of a foal who had just learned to eat. I pointed out that she ate no less than I.

We ate late into the night, and once the food was gone, a minstrel stepped up to the head table. Everyone grew quiet as his deep, calming voice spoke.

"'Lo! lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and great hearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom."

The look of utter joy on Sam's face was priceless and made the whole evening all the better. I would have fought a thousand Orcs to see his face light up so. The lay was long, and quite good to have been made in such short time. As a lore master, I found it quite detailed and was thrilled to think that I had been part of making it. We finally heard the full tale of what had happened to our dear young friends on their journey, and it made my heart break anew to think of all that they had been through.

Once the lay had been sung, Aragorn had the ale brought out and we proceeded to drink. There is nothing so fun, or funny, as drinking hobbits, save perhaps a drinking dwarf. Merry and Pippin sang drinking song after drinking song, I had never heard so many different ones, and danced on the tables once the food had been cleared. It was a light-hearted and happy night, made all the happier by the simple happiness of being with good friends, and knowing that tomorrow will be fine.

At length Gandalf rose saying, "The hands of the King are hands of healing, dear friends," he said. "But you went to the very brink of death ere he recalled you, putting forth all his power, and sent you into the sweet forgetfulness of sleep. And though you have indeed slept long and blessedly, still it is now time to sleep again.'"

"And not only Sam and Frodo here," said Gimli with a twinkle in his eyes, "But you too, Pippin. I love you, if only because of the pains you have cost me, which I shall never forget. Nor shall I forget finding you on the hill of the last battle. But for Gimli the Dwarf you would have been lost then. But at least I know now the look of a hobbit's foot, though it be all that can be seen under a heap of bodies. And when I heaved that great carcass off you, I made sure you were dead. I could have torn out my beard. And it is only a day yet since you were first up and abroad again. To bed now you go. And so shall I." He shooed the young hobbit off with a final push. Merry rose and followed his young friend; the two had been utterly inseparable since Pippin had been allowed to wander where he pleased. Once they had left Legolas rose from the table.

"And I," he said, "shall walk in the woods of this fair land, which is rest enough. In days to come, if my Elven-lord allows, some of our folk shall remain hither; and when we come, it shall be blessed, for a while.  
For a while: a month, a life, a hundred years of Men. But Anduin is near, and Anduin leads down to the Sea. To the Sea!" He then lifted his head to the sky and let his musical voice filled the air.

_"To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,  
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.  
West, west away, the round sun is falling.  
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,  
The voices of my people that have gone before me?  
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;  
For our days are ending and our years failing.  
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.  
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,  
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,  
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,  
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!"  
_

And so singing Legolas went away down the hill. Gimli, Aragorn, Gandalf, Éomer, Éowyn, and myself watched him with amusement and sadness.

"He has heard the seas calling," Gandalf said sadly. "Despite the warning of Lady Galadriel he has heard the calling. No rest shall the heart of Legolas Greenleaf now know till he sails for the Undying Lands." He then looked thoughtfully at Gimli.

"Though I suspect he shall not be alone." Gimli looked about to question before Gandalf spoke again.

"Come, we should heed our advice and rest while we can. We shall have to make the long journey to Minas Tirith soon." With those words the turned and left us alone and speechless.


	71. Homeward Bound

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire Immortal for her awesome beta reading on this!_

April 30th

I spent the night with Aragorn, though I got little sleep. We spent most of the night talking about the most random subjects, everything from literature to ideas for new laws. It has been a long time since I have had so good a friend. The only one whom I've truly been able to spend the entire night talking with is Boromir.

Anyway, back to my original point. Because I did not sleep during the night, I was terribly tired the entire day and had to face the long daunting journey back to Minas Tirith. We spent the better part of the early hours packing, so that we did not actually leave till noon. And what a tired lot we were leaving that camp – I strongly suspected that Aragorn and I were not the only ones too have not slept.

So, we had a light lunch and set off to the river Anduin. We loaded all our supplies and people onto the ships we had commandeered from Mordor's allies. They were dark, damp, dirty, dreary, and terribly overcrowded. But, considering that we could have had to walk the distance, it was much very preferable.

It was a long, journey and took many, many days to complete. We spent most of this month making it, but we are all much better friends at the end of it due to our close quarters. I know far more about Éowyn, Éomer, Damrod, and the sons of Elrond than I did prior to this journey. They were on the same ship as the rest of the fellowship. Still, I began to suffer from a bit of cabin fever by the end of the taxing journey; I craved the feel of grass and the sound of the wind in the trees. So, you can imagine my joy when we landed at Pelennor fields. I jumped off the ship with utter joy and was joined by Éowyn when I started to wander around and feel the plants. Over the course of the journey I have had the time to teach her of the many different plants I know of. We spent every morning and evening together, strengthening our relationship while enjoying each other's company. We discovered we both desire large families, as we both wished to be the parents we were denied. Éowyn would also like to live somewhere near a garden, as she has developed a deep love for things that grow – a passion we now both share as a result of our days in the Houses of Healing. What's more, she doesn't mind my having a large library in the house! What more could I ask for from her? My brother would be laughing his head off if he read that all it takes to make me happy are plants and books.

Anyway, when I wasn't teaching her I was busy sketching, fellowshipping with the fellowship, playing chess with Éomer, or telling the four hobbits stories. I swear that there is nothing more deadly than a curious hobbit, they never cease asking questions! I must have told every story I know, and I know thousands, at least twice. By the time we reached the shore I feared my tongue would be blistered from the number of stories I told.

However, amidst the endless story telling I also had a chance to think.

I have thought long and hard about my future at Gondor, on what path I must take. Knowing that I also had to take the future of Éowyn into account helped me with my decision. I have decided that should Aragorn accept me I shall take the role of Steward in his new reign. It is the best decision as it plays to both Boromir and my strengths. Though I love him more than anything in this life, I must be honest and admit that Boromir has little skill in diplomacy. No, his true talents lie in battle, in the planning and execution of it. I, however, am the opposite. I thrive at diplomacy; I love a debate, and really am quite good at encouraging others to follow new ideas. Still thoug, it is a huge decision and huge choice! One that shall affect the rest of all of our lives. I shall forever have the duty of protecting the rights and laws of my beloved country, and ruling it when my King leaves. Where as Boromir shall have the duty of forever protecting her bordors. Am I truly worthy of such a great responsibility? The number of lives that will depend on me is truly staggering, yet, I know I can do it now. Before this journey began I would not have been able to-I was stuck in my brothers shadow. Not by his doing, but by my own. I see that now, I was afraid to stand less I fall. Looking back, I now know that I always had the ability to lead, I just lacked the confidence that my brother always had. Being apart of this mission, of this fellowship, gave me the chance to see my true colors, my true gifts and flaws. Though I can fight, I do not enjoy doing so. However, I _love_ polotics. I love the feeling of finally helping a council reach a decision, and then seeing that decision acted upon. I may dislike some of the drawn out debates, but I thrive in fighting for my case. I may not love the sword, but I love the power of speech, and the power it wields. I would use my eloquent tongue to bring glory to Gondor and help Aragorn in anyway I can. I've always know I would do this job, but now I know that I _can_ do this job. I can make lords and nobility listen to me-and make them change there minds.

I will take up my fathers mantle of Stewardship. I shall take up the role that he so despeately wanted Boromir to have, and I shall prove to him that I can do it.

Alas, I must stop writing for the night. We have set up camp on the outskirts of Pelennor Field; we shall rest tonight and ride into Minas Tirith tomorrow. To Minas Tirith and our new, free, future.

_A/N: Wow! I can't believe I've written over 70 chapters! Thanks so much all of you guys so much for sticking with me so long, we've almost reached the end!_


	72. The Return of the King

_A/N:Thanks to Sapphire who beta read this._

May 1

We woke up before dawn and quickly disassembled the camp. During the night Boromir had dispatched several horsemen to meet us in Pelennor field and they helped us make the trek back to Minas Tirith.

I had forgotten how truly beautiful my city was. I once described it as a spike of gleaming pearl to Aragorn, what seemed like eons ago. Though it does look to be made of pearl I don't believe that description did it anywhere near enough justice. Words truly fail to describe its beauty. The iridescent white it is made with, the smooth curves that make its massive walls, the simple ease with which it seems to cling to the mountain is made on- all seem to join together to make one harmonious beautiful city. Even now, having been through a battle worthy of legend it is beautiful. Having been beaten, burned, broken, even ransacked, it managed to maintain its grace and beauty. Riding up to it with the victorious armies of both Gondor and Rohan I find myself remembering that night in Lothlórien even more. The cool morning breeze sweeps over the burnt field, seeming to be filled with whispers of hope and promises of rebirth. As the wind blows down from the mountain, I can hear the clear crisp sound of the ringing silver horns. The sound of the thundering hooves of our returning army could not even drown out the sound of the call that had been taken up in my beloved city:

"_The Lords of Gondor have returned!" _

A smile washed over my face and I urged my horse forward so that I was even with Aragorn. He too had heard the call and was grinning back at me.

"Mellon," I said, yelling so as to be heard over the riders and horns, "Can you believe it has only been four months since that night?" He looked at me with disbelief, apparently adding up the days in his head.

"Four months?" He questioned disbelief still evident. "It feels nearer to four years!" he stared ahead for a moment as we neared the city, his gray eyes sweeping over it brilliant walls.

"Before we reach the city I have something to ask you Mellon." I nudged my horse up next his so that I could hear his question. It was a testament to how much trust our horses had in us that they didn't shy with how close we were.

"It will be asking a great deal, and I will understand if you refuse." His voice had taken on an almost nervous quality. One I had never heard nor imagined coming from Aragorn.

"Whatever you would ask of me I would do, My Lord. You are the wisest man I know and I have complete and utter trust in your decisions." A slight twinge of worry filled me as I spoke, though I managed to not let it affect my voice. What if he had heard of my desire to be Steward and wished to deny me? I tried to shrug off the fear and focus on the words that Aragorn was now almost whispering.

"I would ask you to take your brother's place as Steward during my reign. It is a heavy burden to ask of so dear a friend Mellon nin. But I would trust no one else with the task. Do you accept? I understand if you should require more time to make the decision."

My breathing faltered and I stared at him dumbly for a moment while my brain processed what he had just said. Aragorn, King of Gondor had just asked me, the lesser son of Denethor to be steward of Gondor.

I became aware of my mouth hanging open and the look of shock on my face when Aragorn smiled slightly. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I had to accept his offer before he began to doubt his choice.

"Actually," I said, thrilled that my voice wasn't cracking, "Boromir and I discussed that before I left to accompany Merry. He said that he had no desire to take up Stewardship, that he had always hated the idea. He asked if I would like to take it instead. I had never considered such a thing before, but I found myself rather liking the idea. I have thought long and hard about it the last few weeks Mellon, and I should be honored to be your Steward. "

The look of relief that filled his face truly touched me. I have no idea what he would have said for he never got a chance to say it. We had just arrived in Minas Tirith.

We came before the Gateway and halted a few hundred feet from the walls. We hadn't rebuilt the gates yet, but a barrier was laid across the entrance to the City, and there were men at arms in the silver and black of our city with long swords drawn. In front of the barrier stood y brother, Boromir, and Húrin, Warden of the Keys, and other captains of Gondor, and Elfhelm the Marshal and many knights of the Mark; and upon either side of the Gate was a great press of our people in raiment of many colors and garlands of flowers. It was truly spectacular to behold, but I had eyes only for my brother. He was ahead of a procession that hemmed us up on either sides, all of which were soldiers of Gondor or Rohan. A hush fell over the crowd as Aragorn stepped forward. He had dressed up for the occasion and looked truly kingly. He wore a long mantle of the purest white clasped at his throat with the green jewel that Galadriel had given him. Beneath his mantle, he wore a black mail girt with sliver, and a deep blue tunic over it. His head was bare save for a slender fillet of silver bearing a star. The jewel at his chest shone brilliantly and seemed to bathe him in a heavenly light.

A single trumpet rang, and a dead silence followed. Then Boromir strode forth from the gate accompanied by Húrin of the Keys, and four men in the high helms and armor of the Citadel. They bore a great casket of black lebethron bound with silver, which gleamed prettily in the light. As they strode forward, I found my heart quickening and my breath speeding up with utter excitement. Boromir met Aragorn in the midst of everyone who had assembled, and he knelt, saying:

"The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office." And he held out the white rod. Aragorn took the rod and held it high, saying:

"That office is not ended, and it shall be thy family that continues in it for as long as my line shall last." He handed the rod to me and I knelt before him, utterly stunned at the fact that I was now becoming Steward. My brother stood beside me and the happiness on his face was undeniable.

"I proclaim the office to thee, Faramir son of Denethor. Long may you bear the mantle of Steward. Do now thy office!"

I then stood up and spoke in as clear a voice as I could, my heart still thundering, "Men of Gondor hear now the Steward of this Realm! Behold! one has come to claim the kingship again at last. Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor. Shall he be king and enter into the City and dwell there?"

The entire host and all the people cried yea in unison. It was truly astounding to hear. Every voice of the city was crying out yes in hope and love. Aragorn looked humbly at the people as they continued to praise his name. A smile filled my face and I knew I could not hide my happiness if my life should depend on it.

I stepped forward again and raised my hands for silence. "Men of Gondor, the loremasters tell that it was the custom of old that the king should receive the crown from his father ere he died; or if that might not be, that he should go alone and take it from the hands of his father in the tomb where he was laid. But since things must now be done otherwise, using the authority of the Steward, My brother has today brought hither from Rath Dínen the crown of Eärnur the last king, whose days passed in the time of our longfathers of old."

The guards stepped forward, and I gently opened the casket, and he up the ancient crown my hands trembling with the sheer awe of what was happening. The crown was shaped like the helms of the Guards of the Citadel, save that it was loftier, and it was all white, and the wings at either side were wrought of pearl and silver in the likeness of the wings of a sea-bird, for that was the emblem of kings who came over the Sea; and seven gems of adamant were set in the circlet, and upon its summit was set a single jewel the light of which went up like a flame when the sun shone on it.

I turned to Aragorn who took the crown and held it up saying:

"_Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta_!" I felt a shiver run down my spine at the power of the words that Elendil himself had spoken upon arriving out of the Sea on the wings of the wind. It meant 'Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.' The fact that Aragorn spoke these words proved that he planned to rebuild the line of Elendil. His face glowed in the sun's light and he seemed to grow in humanly tall. A light seemed to surround him and I found it hard to maintain eye contact, so grand had he become. It was one of those moments when his true lineage became apparent and I found myself immediately humbled by his nobility.

Yet Aragorn did not put the crown upon his head, but gave it back to me, a small reassuring smile upon his lips. He looked at me with his fathomless gray eyes and said: "By the labour and valour of many I have come into my inheritance. In token of this I would have the Ring-bearer bring the crown to me, and let Mithrandir set it upon my head, if he will; for he has been the mover of all that has been accomplished, and this is his victory." A chill went up my back again as I saw Frodo walk forward. It was amazing how humble Aragorn was being in having the Ringbearer put the crown upon his head. For Frodo bore no station of Nobility, at least no here. Yet who better to crown Aragorn than the one who had secured the freedom of Middle Earth, who had insured that Aragorn would become king? Frodo grasped the crown and bore it to Gandalf. Aragorn knelt before the old wizard, who also seemed to glow in the sun's rays, and Gandalf set the White Crown upon his head.

He looked up at the crowd, tears filling his deep, wise eyes. "Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!" He finished looking down at Aragorn, his smile clear and his face proud.

Aragorn arose and everyone in the crowd fell silent, and I knew that they were seeing him for what he truly was for the first time. Tall as the sea-kings of old, he stood above all that were near; ancient of days he seemed and yet in the flower of manhood; and wisdom sat upon his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light was about him. I strode forward and cried so all could hear:

"Behold the King!"


	73. We Shall Have Peace

_A/N: thanks to Sapphire Immortal who read this_

March 2nd

Yesterday was a flurry of events, we had no time to rest, for Aragorn was instantly ushered to the Hall of Kings and forced to start pronouncing judgments and receiving embassies. People had come from the east and south, from Mirkwood to Dunland, I do believe we had a representative from every land. I was amazed at how quickly they had traveled here! The embassies from Mirkwood were the only ones that spoke yesterday though, as they had quite a lot to talk about. Legolas spoke on behalf of the king, as he was the prince of Mirkwood. A fact I had forgotten until quite recently.

I was standing at the Kings right side as he spoke to the lords of our land, when the doors to the throne room were opened and the procession of elves came in. The banners were held in front of the ambassador so that we could not see whom they were. When they reached the front of the hall the two flag bearers stepped aside and before us stood Legolas, in his entire immortal splendor. He was clothed in the cloth of his people, yet his silver and green tunic had more embroidery on it, and it seemed to me that the trees stitched upon it truly moved with an unfelt wind. His long golden locks were held back by three braids, yet it seemed to gleam with ethereal light. His gray eyes looked upon us with the wisdom of his kind, and the love of the fellowship. He stood tall, his Elvish ancestry clearly stated. Looking upon him, I realized that he was indeed an Elvish prince. The fool nobility of the kind-hearted elf I had come to know and love hit me like a maul and I found myself momentarily speechless. Legolas must have noticed my stunned self because he gave me a barely noticeable wink as he bowed to Aragorn.

"Greetings my lord Elfstone. May your reign be peaceful and long." He then stood and lifted his arms stretching them out at his side." "I come to speak on behalf of Mirkwood, and its king, Thranduil. Long have we known you King Elessar, long have we been friends. It is my father, and my wish, that we make this friendship official. I come to offer the allegiance of Mirkwood, and all her people." He then took a step back and a beautiful female elf stepped forward, handing him a bow that was bright and strong. It was made of what appeared to be silver, yet there were veins in such as is seen in wood. He stepped forward again and once more bowed before Aragorn.

"I offer you the bow of Oropher, from the founding of our woodland realm, as a symbol of this allegiance." Aragorn stood from his throne as Legolas also rose.

"I accept the gift, Prince Legolas, and the allegiance. Long may our realms live in peace, and may long our friendship last." A servant came forward and took the bow to the treasury as Legolas and Aragorn began to discuss plans. They quite literally spent the rest of the day talking so that no other embassies were seen.

Today, we saw an embassy for the dwarves led by none other than Gimli. Though he is not royalty, he is from a royal line. He came in with at least twelve other dwarves. He wore the clothing of his people, and though he was short in stature, his presence seemed that of a giant. He was wearing clothes very similar to that which he wore during the council of Elrond, yet something was distinctly different. I spent the entire time he spoke with Aragorn trying to decide just what was different, when it suddenly hit me.

He had no weapons. I had never seen the gruff dwarf weaponless. He wasn't exactly the most trusting person in Middle Earth, and he considered his skill with an axe to be his greatest source of pride. The two together caused Gimli never to be weaponless. The fact that he, and his kin had come in to the throne room of Gondor weaponless spoke more to me of their desire to be allies than anything else they could have done. These are certainly odd times.

Luckily, dwarves are nowhere near as long winded as elves. I suspected that elves had the utmost patience for speeches because of their blessed lives. They spoke their peace, offered Aragorn a beautifully crafted gem with a smaller green stone embedded within it, and then they left. We managed to fit two more embassies in because of their speed.

Therefore, after an exceptionally long day, and a happy feast with the fellowship, I am retiring to bed. It has been a taxing day and I am quite tired. Tomorrow we shall meet the Easterlings, the Harad, and the slaves of Mordor. I find myself troubled with thoughts of what we should do. On the one hand, they all knowingly helped serve Sauron, and in doing so declared war on our people. Yet on the other hand, they surrendered themselves, and had asked for forgiveness. Do we make peace with the traitors or do we punish that which took place in the past? It is a choice I am quite glad to not have to make, and one that I know Aragorn will choose correctly in.

March 3rd

Boromir, as the newly appointed head of the army and defense, attended today's delegations. He stood at my side, and offered his opinion whenever Aragorn asked, which he did quite often, though he didn't need it. It amazed me how much he sought others opinions, even though he was more than wise enough to choose on his own. It honored me to no end to know he thought so highly of our opinions.

The Easterling dignitaries came before us, guards flanked on either side, and begged us our pardon. Aragorn stood from his throne and signalled for the guards to step down. They did as he asked, albeit slightly hesitantly. He then did something, which shocked me. He walked up to the still kneeling Easterling and helped him stand.

"Long has there been strife between our lands. Long have we fought." He spoke in a loud, clear voice and the Easterling shuddered to hear it. In fact, the others had too, as if they trembled under his sound. I imagined I would too if I were in their position.

"I wish to end the fighting. This is a new age, and being a new age I believe it only fair that we give each other a new chance, allow each other the freedom to be friends." He then stepped back from the shaking Easterling and spoke to the entire room.

If I were up there, I would not have made it as easy as he made it sound like. "I, King Elessar, hold your crimes pardoned. You may return to your homelands in peace. May the peace between our people begin today, and may it last for all time." With those words, he sat back down on the throne and the Easterlings all stood. They thanked him resolutely and left humbly, but with their heads held high. I was torn between feeling happy and slightly annoyed. After all, they had killed thousands of our people over the century. Yet we had killed no less, and they had been under the influence of Sauron. Yes, I believe it is a good decision and one that shall have lasting power. I prayed that time will eventually heal those wounds Sauron created, and let this come to past.

The Haradrim came in next. They had sent an actual embassy, not just their prisoners. A man about my age led the party. He had proud eyes, and he wore his long dark hair loose at his shoulders. He wore the robes common among the Haradrim, but they were done in a beautiful silken material. By his side stood a woman who looked somewhat familiar, though I could not place her. Her black hair was long and pulled back in a twisted braid with strands of gold braided with it. She wore a purple veil of a gauzy material over her face so that I couldn't see anything but her eyes. They were a deep brown and seemed kind, but proud. Her tanned skin stood out against the white silk she was dressed in and she had gold chains dangling all around her garment. Her arms had many bracelets on them with various gems and she had a necklace, which covered the majority of her neck. When she walked into the room, Boromir tensed at my side and tightened the grip on his ceremonial sword. We were blocked by guards, so I leaned over to Boromir, knowing the Haradrim would not see.

"What is it brother?" I questioned gently. He shook his head, which I knew to mean he would tell me later, and he just kept staring at her. I could not tell whether it was out of anger or curiosity that made him act this way. The guards standing in front of us walked forward and flanked the two Haradrim. The woman lifted her eyes and noticed Boromir and myself for the first time. She paused momentarily, but kept walking. Her eyes drifted back to Aragorn, but she kept stealing glances at Boromir.

What was I missing? Clearly, they knew each other, but how? She was a Haradrim, he was a Gondorian, and we hated each other on principle. If they had ever seen each other then most likely one of them would have wound up dead. I wasn't trying to be cruel, it was just the way our people were.

I was so distracted by the two that I missed there introductions and opening statements. Aragorn had started speaking something about a violent history between our peoples, and how it was both our faults.

"As we have both erred over our long history I think that with the starting of this new age we should start a new history together. One laced by peace and goodwill. I hold your past's deeds pardoned and grant you leave to return to your homeland, with the offer of allegiance in the future." I felt a momentary pause after that statement. The Haradrim male eyes had temporarily sparked with what looked like satisfaction, something that seemed odd. However, I wasn't really paying attention. I was fighting an internal battle. I was pleased to be sure, we had fought with the Haradrim for as long as memory, and peace would be incredible. Hard to sustain due to hatred and bloodshed, but perhaps it would be possible. King Aragorn had the image and his voice. Now he had the throne. With this thought, I had no doubt of his ability to heal this rift between the Haradrim and us, just as he did with the Easterlings. Yet there was still a slight lingering dislike. I closed my eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. We would have peace. I would not let any past dislike color our fragile future. For the sake of our future, I will maintain peace.


	74. Justice and Princedom's

_A/N:Thanks to Sapphire who beta read this._

Boromir instantly relaxed the moment the Haradrim left the room. I looked over at him from the corner of my eye. I would have to question him on his behavior later. In the meantime, we still had several judgments to pass. Aragorn pardoned the slaves of Mordor and actually gave them the land around Lake Núrnen, an act that I found exceedingly kind and just. No longer would they be slaves, now they would have their own land, they would be their own people. Moreover, in being the one to free them, Aragorn won their current, and future allegiance.

Once the slaves all left I found myself becoming tense. Beregond was next to judge. He had taken a man's life while trying to get to Boromir and it had been a soldier as well. He had also defied the orders of Denethor, his superior, though he was mad at the time. I knew Aragorn would be just, yet I feared for my friend. He had not meant to kill the soldier, and I knew that fact that he had still haunted him. He entered the hall in the company of two guards and was forced to kneel rather cruelly. Even though he had started to kneel. Aragorn frowned at the guards and their cruelty as he rose.

"Beregond," He said in a booming voice. "By your sword, blood was spilled in the Hallows, where that is forbidden. In addition, you left your post without leave of Lord or of Captain. For these things of old, death was the penalty. Now therefore I must pronounce your doom." A chill filled the room as he paused and I found myself fighting the desire to jump in front of my loyal friend and take his punishment.

"All penalties are remitted for your valour in battle, and still more because all that you did was for the love of the Lord Faramir. Nonetheless you must leave the Guard of the Citadel, and you must go forth from the City of Minas Tirith." I drew in a harsh breath as he spoke and felt myself tense up with anger. Though Aragorn was being kind in sparing his life, he had dismissed him of his honor and forced him from his home in one cruel judgment. What about his children and wife? Where would he find work when he was now honorless? The cruelty of the punishment made shake with rage and I had to fight not to object to my King, whom I was beginning to seriously doubt.

Beregond's face had grown exceptionally pale as all the blood left his face, and he looked stricken as he bowed his head. But then Aragorn said:

"So it must be, for you are appointed to the White Company, the Guard of Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, and you shall be its captain and dwell in Emyn Arnen in honour and peace, and in the service of him for whom you risked all, to save him from death."

My heart stopped and my breathing faltered as Beregond looked up in disbelief. How had I ever doubted my friend? Not only had he given him a new position, he had assured that he could work with me. Beregond knelt, kissed Aragorn's hand, and departed in joy and content. I stole a glance towards Aragorn, and he gave me a knowing smile. I also was quite thrilled with the developments. Beregond was safe!

_Faramir, Prince of Ithilien_

Wait, he had just called me Prince of Ithilien. Probably sensing the fact that I just realized what he had said Aragorn beckoned me forward. I stumbled up to the throne, my mind still stuck on his prior statement.

I knelt before him as he placed his hand on my shoulder. His eyes sparkled merrily and there was an unmistakable love in their depths that shocked me. I still found it hard to believe that one whom I admired and loved so much could respect and care for me. How long would I bear the curse of Denethor's hate?

As I was saying, he looked down on me and smiled.

"Dearest friend," He said, loud enough so only we could hear. "I have thought long and hard of an appropriate gift for one who has become as a brother to me. At long last I have decided upon that which will give you what your brother and yourself so willingly gave me." Then he raised his head and addressed the whole room.

"To Faramir, Stewards of Gondor I give Ithilien to be his Princedom. For I would have you dwell within sight of this city, and I know you can regrow it's garden's to their former beauty." His eyes sparkled as he finished. I almost couldn't speak, much less move. "Long may you reside there."

"For," he continued, addressing the crowd, "Minas Ithil in Morgul Vale shall be utterly destroyed, and though it may in time to come be made clean, no man may dwell there for many long years." I thought it terribly kind that he explained why he wouldn't be giving me the larger cities, but I would never have wanted any place other than Ithilien. I had already intended to take Éowyn with me to live there.

I then kissed his hand and rose, resuming my position by my brother, who was called up next.

"To you my captain, I give Osgilliath to be your princedom. For though she must be restored I know none will look after her so well as you. For you have long defended her and loved her." Boromir's eyes sparkled as Aragorn spoke and I knew he was thrilled with Aragorn's gift. It suited him perfectly. I could almost imagine Osgiliath returned to her former glory, whose walls and turrets as white and strong as fair Minas Tirith. It made me excited to think of this.

He rose and came back to my side. He gave me a large smile and gave me an understanding look. I think we were both now speechless.

Last of all Aragorn greeted Éomer. He came into the throne room accompanied by few others and he embraced Aragorn. Aragorn smiled at him and said:

"Between us there can be no word of giving or taking, nor of reward; for we are brethren. In happy hour did Eorl ride from the North, and never has any league of peoples been more blessed, so that neither has ever failed the other, nor shall fail. Now, as you know, we have laid Théoden the Renowned in a tomb in the Hallows, and there he shall lie for ever among the Kings of Gondor, if you will. Or if you desire it, we will come to Rohan and bring him back to rest with his own people."

Éomer answered: "Since the day when you rose before me out of the green grass of the downs I have loved you, and that love shall not fail. Now I must depart for a while to my own realm, where there is much to heal and set in order. But as for the Fallen, when all is made ready we will return for him; but here let him sleep a while." As he spoke, I felt myself grow sad. I had forgotten that he would have to leave. I would miss my dear friend, and almost brother.

As they spoke, Éowyn made her way to me, though I didn't notice it. Once beside me I smiled and embraced her, she smiled sadly in return and took my hand.

"Now I must go back to my own land and look on it once again, and help my brother in his labour; but when one whom I long loved as father is laid at last to rest, I will return." I nodded my head, though I felt as though my world was crashing. I had forgotten that she would have to return. I had forgotten that my beloved would have to go all the way to Rohan, probably for months. As though sensing my thoughts she laid her warm hand against my cheeks.

"Fear not Faramir, we shall not leave till tomorrow, and we shall return quickly. After all, I have a wedding to attend." She smiled bashfully as she spoke, something that surprised me greatly. I grasped her, noting Boromir stepping in front of us so none would see, and I kissed her soundly. She smiled against my lips before breaking the kiss.

"Many more kiss like that and I may not be able to leave." She murmured, looking at my lips longingly. I smiled and rested my head on her forehead.

"Then I shall kiss you till I die, beloved, so we may never be parted." I then leaned back and looked her in the eyes.

"You will hurry back won't you Éowyn, for every day that you are gone will seems as a year. A year in which I shall be incomplete, for the sun shall not shine on me till I partake of your beauty again." I heard Boromir snort as he listened to me and I resisted the urge to swat him.

Éowyn laughed lightly and gave me a quick hug. "Nor shall I know rest till we are together again." She gave a quick look at Éomer who was getting ready to leave. "I shall see you tomorrow before I leave beloved." She gave me one last quick kiss and then she was gone.


	75. Epilogue: Ic frendscipe ge awa

_A/N: Thanks to Sapphire Immortal for her awesome beta reading on this!_

May 4th

I awoke early this morning and went in search of Éowyn. I couldn't believe she was leaving already. My heart was filled with sadness at the thought of not seeing her for so long. Yet I was also filled with hope for my future. One that promised to be bright and full of hope.

I looked all around but could not find my betrothed anywhere; I finally decided to search the Houses of Healing as a last resort. I found her in the gardens under the old tree that had sheltered us for so many evenings. A smile lit my face when I saw her I lowered myself beside her and gently took her hand.

"How many evenings did we spend here?" I said wistfully. She smiled softly and nodded.

"I shall miss it. I think I'll have to plant a garden in Edoras, none we have are as beautiful as this." We sat in silence for a moment, neither wishing to speak of the impending departure.

"I've thought of a name for Fea's foal." I said quietly. She smiled and looked at me curiously. She had discovered that the baby would be a girl.

"Etelësúle." Her grin broadened as she murmured the name to herself.

"Springs breath, I like that. It's perfect for her." We grew quiet again, and I knew the inevitable was nearing.

"Will you write to me Éowyn?" I asked quietly. She lifted her eyebrow and nodded. "I shall write to you every day, Van Melda." I said, looking at her eyes. I reached beside me and grasped my sketchbook.

"I have something to give you." I fingered the worn leather cover gently before I held it out to her. She took it gingerly, looking at it in quiet awe.

"You would give me this?" She asked, disbelief lacing her voice. "But it means so much to you!" I smiled at her shock and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You mean so much more to me. Besides, I've added a few more sketches and paintings." She grinned widely and opened the book eagerly. She lovingly fingered each page as she looked at them as though for the first time. She paused over Théoden's sketch and fingered it lovingly. She then flipped past the picture of her with an embarrassed flush.

"I think you were a little too kind to me Faramir. I don't look that nice." I smiled and shook my head.

"No my love, my drawings could never hope to capture your beauty." She blushed prettily and looked back at the pictures. She traced the fellowship and smiled, probably at the memory of that night.

"You know," She said quietly, "It was then that I began to realize just what you meant to me." I smiled and stared at that picture.

"It was then that I began to know I was in trouble. I had already fallen for you, hard. I wasn't sure what I was going to do when Aragorn came back; I knew you were smitten with him." She smiled and turned the page. It was a picture of her in my mother's cloak. She stood before the wall and had a smile on her face. She smiled before flipping the page. The next painting made her laugh. It was of Merry rolling around on the grass.

"I hadn't laughed as hard as I did at that moment in a long time." She said smiling; I nodded before she turned the page. It was of my brother and me. She looked at it and then at me with astonishment.

"How did you do this? You can't even see yourself and yet this is a perfect likeness!" She sounded disbelieving. I laughed and shook my head.

"I don't know; I've just always been able to. Mother encouraged it while Father discouraged it. It became a kind of obsession for me; I got good enough to sketch anything I could remember." She nodded her head in understanding and turned the page. It was a picture of us in the field of Rock Rose, we were hugging. She grinned even wider before laying the book gently in her lap. She then grasped me in a fierce hug.

"That one's my favorite." She whispered in my ear. I shivered and hugged her back. Before I even knew what was happening she was crying, and I was trying not to. I grasped her even tighter and gently stroked her silky locks.

"Ssh, ssh, it's alright Éowyn." I murmured, trying to not let my voice crack. She slowly stopped crying and clung to me less desperately. I slowly pulled back and stroked her tear stained face.

"We'll be reunited quickly my love." I grabbed the book and showed her that there were still lots of blank pages. "We have plenty of pages for more memories." She grabbed the book gently before laying it down beside her.

"Let's make one now." She said, before kissing me. I grinned and kissed her back passionately.

"Why I never!" I knew that voice. I tried not to growl as I pulled back from Éowyn.

"What. Do. You. Want. Nestedrin?" I said through gritted teeth. Éowyn sat beside me trying to stifle a laugh. Why did he always find us? Alternatively, in fact, I rather would like to know how he did it.

He huffed before answering. "Your brothers sent me." He turned to Éowyn, helping her up. "It's time for you to depart my dear." I went from being annoyed to immensely sad as I stood. I handed Éowyn the book and she clasped it sadly. I then took her hand and Nestedrin led us out. Éomer and Boromir were waiting for us.

They gave us small smiles but said nothing. Together the four of us headed out of the city. It was a long, quiet walk, none of us wishing to break the heavy silence. We reached the gates far too quickly. As I watched, Éowyn mount her beautiful mare I felt my heart break. Who knew how many months it would be before we were reunited? She looked down on me as she righted herself.

"Smile beloved, we shall see each other again before we know it." She reached into her riding pack and grasped a bundle. She handed it to me and waited while I opened it. Inside was a single Rock Rose, it had been pressed so that it was flat. It was tied to a lock of her golden hair. I looked up at her curiously and she smiled at me, her eyes moist with unshed tears.

"It's the flower you gave me that first night so long ago." She said simply. I smiled in understanding and leaned up to her, giving her a gentle kiss before separating. It did not seem so long ago to me, but all the same, it was fresh in my mind as I knew it was fresh in hers. She gave me a long look, which I returned, before she gave her horse a gentle nudge. She sprang forward and Éowyn joined the crowd of Rohirrim waiting to return home. Éomer rode forward and gave an order in Rohirric, and as one by one, the crowd surged forward. I watched them leave valiantly until I could see nothing more of them. Boromir stood beside me the entire time, his arm draped on my shoulder. When at last they disappeared on the horizon, he squeezed me gently.

"Come brother, Gondor awaits us."

Yes, Gondor awaits. With nary a word, we walked back into Minas Tirith together, towards that future.

_A/N: Wow! I can't believe I finished this story. I've had a great time writing it, and I learned a lot about Lord of the Rings while writing it. I hoped y'all all enjoyed this story, but I want you to know that I'm not through with these characters yet. I've got another story in mind to continue with this one-which I've already started writing, and lots of one shots. If you liked this story you may want to either put me on author alert, or check my profile regularly to see what else I'll be writing for this series. I've had a great time with ANFOTR, and all of you who have reviewed have made my day. Thanks for asking me to get a beta reader, it improved my story immensely and introduced me to the most awesome beta ever Sapphire Immortal. _

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed this story and stuck with me from the beginning. You gave me great ideas encouragement and happiness looking at all your thoughts and comments. _

_PS: The title is rohirric for "I love you always."_


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